na 


IU 


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WALTER 
CAMP-&- 


BROOKS 


DRIVES   AND    PUTS 


HER   HKAKT    WAS    HKATIM,    I. IKK    A    SLKDGE-H AMMER." 

(See  frige  38.) 


Drives  and  Puts 

A  Book  of  Golf  Stories 

By 
Walter  Camp 

and 

Lilian  Brooks 


Boston 
L.  C.  Page  and  Company 

(Incorporated) 
1899 


UNIV.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELE? 


Copyright,  1899 
BY  L.  C.  PAGE  AND  COMPANY 

(INCORI'ORATBD) 


Colonial  }prrss  : 

Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co 
Boston,  U.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I.  "MAKE  OR  BREAK"       .        .        .        .11 

II.    SAMMY 35 

III.  THE  GREAT  PROFESSIONAL  ...      51 

IV.  A  MATTER  OF  HONOUR         ...      69 
V.  THE  SECOND  LESSON     ....      99 

VI.    ONE  OFF  Two 129 

VII.  DOING  SOMETHING  FOR  HIS  COLLEGE    151 

VIII.  A  SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN    .        .        .     175 

IX.  THE  LADY  AND  THE  Cow    .        .        .191 

X.  THE  CONVERSION  OF  ST.  OURS    .        .     209 

XI.  AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY     .        .        .    223 


MAKE  OR  BREAK" 


DRIVES  AND   PUTS 


"MAKE  OR  BREAK" 

"  A  ND  to  think  that  I  must  leave  all  this 
^~V  simply  to  earn  my  daily  bread.  It's 
wrong,  anyway.  '  Daily  bread '  should 
grow  on  trees  everywhere,  well  shaped, 
and  of  engaging  lightness,  also  baked  to 
a  tempting  brown." 

Jack  Sturgis  stood  on  the  porch  of  Mrs. 
Clark's  house,  bag  in  hand,  ready  to  drive 
to  the  station.  His  heart  was  rebelling 
at  the  thought  of  taking  the  city  and  its 
sultriness  in  exchange  for  that  sharp,  salty 
morning  breeze,  that  was  already  stirring 
the  leaves.  Just  then  Patty  Clark,  his 
eighteen-year-old  half-cousin,  stepped  out 


12  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

of  the  door,  looking  so  cool  and  tempting 
that  Jack's  temper  rose  still  higher. 

"  I'll  leave  my  clubs  in  your  charge, 
Patty,"  he  added,  as  he  jumped  into  the 
cart,  "and  woe  betide  you  if  anything 
happens  to  them.  They  are  the  apple  of 
my  eye.  What  a  little  duffer  you  are ! 
Seven  whole  days  in  the  week  with  noth- 
ing to  do,  five  feet  six  in  your  stocking 
feet,  and  an  arm  that  should  drive  a  ball 
to  kingdom  come.  Instead  of  making  use 
of  your  blessings  you  sit  around  from 
morning  until  night  in  useless  fluffy 
things,  embroidering  centrepieces  for  the 
table." 

"  I  do  not  wear  fluffy  things  and  I  do 
not  embroider  centrepieces,"  said  Patty, 
in  sweeping,  indignant  denial. 

"Well,  if  you  don't  you  ought  to," 
replied  Jack,  calmly.  "  Have  some  one 
meet  me  at  the  5.09  on  Friday,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  are  you  coming  down  ?  "  asked 
Patty,  in  surprise. 

Jack  turned  and  looked  at  her. 

"  Coming  down  ?  Of  course  I'm  com- 
ing down.  Don't  I  always  come  ?  " 


"MAKE   OR   BREAK"  13 

"  I  didn't  hear  mother  ask  you,  so  I 
thought  —  " 

"You  thought  I  might  take  the  hint. 
Perhaps  I'm  not  wanted,"  he  commented, 
slowly.  "  I  dare  say  you  will  have  two  or 
three  men  on  your  hands  without  count- 
ing me." 

"  Probably,"  answered  Patty,  coolly. 

"  Well,"  said  Jack,  with  sudden  exasper- 
ation, "  I'm  coming  down,  wanted  or  not 
wanted,  this  time,  —  afterwards,  we'll  see. 
Don't  forget  the  5.09,  will  you  ?  " 

Patty  watched  the  runabout  as  it  disap- 
peared rapidly  down  the  road.  Her  blue 
eyes  still  flashed  wrathfully,  and  a  diminu- 
tive frown  marred  the  sweetness  of  her 
brow. 

"  Fluffy  things  !  "  she  said,  half  under 
her  breath,  as  she  looked  down  at  her  trim 
shirt-waist  and  mannish  little  boots. 

She  turned,  and,  slowly  entering  the 
great  square  living-room,  sat  down  medi- 
tatively with  her  elbow  on  her  knee  and 
her  chin  in  the  palm  of  her  hand.  Her 
absent  gaze  wandered  over  the  sweep  of 
lawn,  the  distant  sea,  the  tempting,  bright- 


14  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

cushioned  seats  on  the  piazza  outside, 
and  finally  rested  upon  Jack's  caddy-bag, 
thrown  carelessly  down  on  the  window- 
seat  near  the  door.  "I  must  put  those 
clubs  away,  or  some  of  the  boys  will  bor- 
row them,"  she  thought,  with  a  relenting 
smile,  and,  rising,  started  to  carry  the  bag 
to  her  room. 

"  Nine,"  she  counted,  half  aloud,  "  nine 
mysterious,  deadly  looking  things  just  to 
send  a  poor  little  ball  a  few  feet.  That 
is  as  far  as  it  usually  goes,"  defiantly, 
"although  Jack  does  think  he  can  play. 
Centrepieces ! "  she  added,  her  thoughts 
flashing  back  to  the  unpardonable  insult. 
"I  would  just  like  to  show  his  Mightiness 
that  I  am  not  the  useless,  fluffy  creature 
he  takes  me  for.  He  is  really  getting 
dreadfully  spoiled.  That's  the  worst  of 
platonic  friendships.  They're  only  pla- 
tonic  when  there  is  no  one  else.  It's  a 
fearful  strain  to  keep  more  than  two  going 
at  the  same  time."  She  started  again  to 
carry  the  clubs  up-stairs,  when  a  sudden 
thought  struck  her  motionless,  and  a 
gleam  of  mischief  danced  in  her  eyes. 


"MAKE   OR   BREAK"  15 

"I'll  do  it,"  she  cried,  and,  glancing 
around  to  see  that  she  was  quite  alone, 
she  took  two  clubs  from  Jack's  caddy-bag, 
a  lofter  and  a  driver.  The  remaining 
clubs  she  put  in  the  coat  closet,  and, 
helping  herself  to  some  old  balls  she  saw 
lying  on  a  shelf,  she  caught  up  her  hat, 
and  started  toward  the  beach.  It  was  still 
very  early,  and  the  shades  in  the  windows 
of  the  cottages  around  about  were  down. 
The  devoted  ones  who  had  risen  in  order 
to  "  speed  the  parting  guest "  had  not 
returned  from  the  station,  and  Patty  met 
no  one.  A  brisk  twenty  minutes'  walk 
brought  her  to  a  gleaming  stretch  of  sand. 
On  the  left,  great  dunes  rose  high  above 
her,  and  at  her  feet  the  surf  broke  gently 
with  a  sound  like  a  caress. 

"  What  a  day  !  "  she  cried,  and  stretched 
her  strong  young  arms  high  above  her 
head  as  though  to  clasp  and  hold  the 
whole  enchanting  earth.  Then  turning 
resolutely  from  the  loveliness  around,  she 
picked  up  the  driver  and  began  prepara- 
tions. 

"I  know  one  puts  the  ball  on  a  little 


1 6  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

mound  as  though  it  were  a  marble,"  she 
murmured  to  herself.  "  That  mound  is  one 
of  the  few  things  in  golf  that  really  ap- 
peals to  me.  It  does  so  remind  me  of 
Cincinnati."  She  finished  an  elaborate 
elevation  about  two  inches  from  the 
ground  and  placed  her  ball.  Grasping 
the  club  with  both  hands  like  a  vise,  and 
with  every  muscle  rigid,  she  took  a  terrific 
swing.  When  it  was  over  she  looked 
down,  and  saw  the  ball  still  reposing 
peacefully  on  the  tee. 

"Well!"  she  exclaimed,  "what  is  it 
there  for  ?  It  should  have  gone  miles. 
What  on  earth  did  I  do  to  my  back  ?  I 
believe  I've  broken  it."  After  a  moment's 
pause,  she  made  another  violent  attempt, 
and  hit  the  ground  six  inches  behind  the 
ball.  There  it  stood,  calm  and  serene, 
while  her  wrist  ached  as  though  she  had 
dislocated  it.  With  flushed  cheeks  and 
flashing  eyes  she  tried  again. 

"  I'll  hit  it  or  die,"  she  said  aloud, 
swinging  passionately.  The  ball  shot  off 
at  right  angles  and  disappeared  in  the 
shining  water. 


"MAKE   OR  BREAK"  17 

While  Patty  stood  spellbound  looking 
at  the  spot  where  it  had  so  quickly  van- 
ished, she  thought  she  heard  the  sound  of 
a  badly  suppressed  laugh,  but,  after  the 
most  careful  scrutiny  of  the  beach  and 
dunes,  she  concluded  it  was  her  heated 
imagination.  Preparing  another  elaborate 
elevation,  Miss  Clark  proceeded  to  try 
again.  This  time  her  club  cut  cleanly 
under,  and  the  ball  sat  on  the  demolished 
tee  like  Humpty  Dumpty,  looking  as  though 
it  had  had  a  great  fall.  Then  Patty  sat 
down  on  the  sand  and  gazed  at  the  driver 
in  absolute  despair. 

"  I've  gone  through  all  the  motions  and 
it's  no  use;  it's  absolutely  no  use,"  she 
cried  aloud. 

"  'Tain't  no  use  that  way,"  said  a  voice 
behind  her. 

Patty  started,  then,  turning  in  astonish- 
ment, confronted  a  tall,  loose-jointed  boy 
of  about  fourteen,  all  but  shoeless,  and 
practically  bareheaded,  as  only  a  tattered 
brim  of  what  had  once  been  a  hat  covered 
his  thick  mat  of  tow-coloured  sunburnt 
hair.  A  pair  of  bright  brown  eyes  blinked 


1 8  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

from  under  white  eyelashes  in  a  long, 
solemn-looking  face,  tanned  to  a  rich  ma- 
hogany. They  surveyed  each  other  in 
silence  for  a  moment,  then  Patty  exclaimed, 
indignantly  : 

"  So  you  laughed  ?  " 

"Guess  so,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  Where  were  you  ?  " 

"  Yonder,"  with  a  jerk  of  his  thumb 
toward  the  dunes. 

"  Was  it  so  very  funny  ? "  dubiously, 
after  a  slight  pause. 

"  Bet  yer  life,"  replied  the  boy,  a  smile 
of  appreciation  spreading  over  his  face. 

"  Who  are  you,  anyway  ?  "  asked  Patty, 
with  an  attempt  at  haughtiness. 

"  Sammy." 

"  Sammy  what  ? " 

"  Sammy's  'nough,"  he  answered,  in- 
differently. "  Can't  call  yer  more'n  one  at 
a  time." 

"Well,"  said  Patty,  slowly  picking  up 
her  clubs,  "  I  am  glad  to  have  given  you 
a  half  hour's  amusement.  I  am  also  glad 
that  you  can  laugh.  I  feel  as  though  I 
could  never  laugh  again." 


"MAKE    OR   BREAK"  19 

"Want  me  to  help  yer?"  volunteered 
the  boy,  as  he  saw  her  about  to  leave. 

"  You  ?  " 

Patty's  tone  conveyed  volumes. 

Sammy  shambled  up  to  her  and  took 
the  driver  out  of  her  hand  without  a  word. 
From  one  of  his  ragged  pockets  he  pro- 
duced an  old  battered  ball,  and  proceeded  to 
tee  it.  Then  he  stepped  back,  and,  without 
further  preliminaries,  sent  it  flying  down 
the  beach,  long,  low,  and  straight  as  a  die. 
Then  he  handed  back  the  driver.  Patty 
looked  at  him  with  wide  astonished  eyes. 

"Goin'  now?"  he  asked,  indifferently. 

"Not  until  you  show  me  how  you  did 
it,"  she  cried,  eagerly. 

"Guess  I  don't  know  'nough,"  said 
Sammy,  still  on  his  dignity. 

"  You  are  a  wonder,  a  perfect  wonder, 
Sammy.  Won't  you  help  me  ?  How  was 
/  to  know  how  clever  you  were  ?  Do  you 
think  I  can  ever  learn  ?  " 

"  Dunno,"  said  Sammy,  doubtfully,  "  per- 
haps yer  can  if  I  teach  yer,  only  if  I'm 
agoin'  ter,  yer  got  to  do  as  I  tell  yer, 
'cause  yer  don't  know  nuthin'." 


20  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"  I'll  do  everything  you  say,  if  you'll 
only  help  me,"  said  Patty,  imploringly. 

Sammy  stood  awkwardly  digging  his 
toes  into  the  sand. 

"Well,"  he  said,  at  last,  "in  der  fust 
place,  yer  don't  want  no  Himmelayers." 

"  No  what  ? " 

"  No  mountings,"  said  Sammy,  endeav- 
ouring to  be  simple.  "  That  thing  yer 
put  yer  ball  on  wasn't  no  tee,  it  was  a 
bunker,  and  yer  had  it  sky  high,  too. 
'Course  yer  club  cut  under  it,  and  yer  ball 
stayed  where  'twas.  Yer  make  a  little 
feller  like  this  un,"  stooping  as  he  spoke, 
"  and  then  yer  ready  fer  business.  See  ?  " 

"  But,  Sammy,"  said  Miss  Clark,  almost 
tearfully,  "the  first  stroke  I  took  went 
clean  over  it.  My  tee  might  have  been  a 
'mounting,'  but  I  never  touched  it." 

"  Course  yer  didn't,"  said  Sammy,  scorn- 
fully. 

"  But  why  ?     There  was  force  enough." 

"  Bet  there  was,  it  was  a  regular  press 
from  way  back.  Yer  want  ter  go  easy  at 
fust,  jest  ter  be  sure  and  hit  der  ball. 
Here  yer  go,"  he  said,  drawing  a  line  from 


"MAKE    OR  BREAK"  21 

the  ball  to  where  he  stood.  "  Put  yer  left 
foot  just  ahead  of  this  and  keep  your 
hands  low,  and  when  yer  swing  back,  soft 
and  slow  like,  lift  yer  left  foot  from  der 
ground  a  little  and  then  swat  it,  but,  by 
jiminy,  keep  yer  eye  on  der  ball,  or  yer  a 
goner." 

Miss  Clark  started  in  to  take  a  tremen- 
dous backward  swing,  but  Sammy  stopped 
her  peremptorily. 

"  'Tain't  no  use  goin'  at  it  like  a  steam- 
engine,  why  don't  yer  mind  what  I  tell 
yer  ?  Keep  yer  body  steady  and  yer 
head  down,  and  let  her  go." 

Patty  did  as  directed,  although  slightly 
skeptical,  and  to  her  astonishment  the  ball 
flew  prettily  away,  not  very  far,  to  be  sure, 
but  quite  far  enough  to  be  inspiring  after 
her  late  efforts. 

"  Sammy,  you  darling,  I  shall  always 
love  you  dearly  !  "  she  exclaimed,  fervently. 
"Oh,  I  am  so  happy." 

"That  wasn't  much,"  said  Sammy,  with 
engaging  frankness. 

Patty  made  another  swing  and  topped 
badly. 


22  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"Took  yer  eye  off,"  commented  Sammy, 
severely  ;  "  saw  yer  lift  yer  head  right  up  ; 
that  was  'cause  yer  was  so  glad  'bout  der 
odder  one.  Golfers  ain't  got  no  time  ever 
to  be  glad.  Yer  pulled  yer  body  back, 
too.  Get  furder  away,  an'  keep  yer  head 
steady,  that's  der  jigger,"  he  added,  as  a 
beautiful  ball  sailed  off  down  the  beach. 

"  Sammy,"  said  Patty,  impressively,  "  I 
believe,  I  don't  know,  but  I  believe  that 
I'm  going  to  be  able  to  play,  and  what  is 
more  I  believe  I  want  to  play.  Dear  angel 
child,  if  you  will  meet  me  here  every 
morning  at  eight  o'clock,  I'll  give  you 
untold  gold." 

The  colour  swept  quickly  into  Sammy's 
brown  cheeks. 

"  Don't  want  no  gold,"  he  said,  proudly. 

Patty  looked  aghast. 

"  Then  you  won't  come  ?  "  she  asked. 

Sammy  remained  ominously  silent. 

"  What  do  you  want,  Sammy,  dear," 
said  Patty,  coaxingly.  "I'll  give  you  any- 
thing in  the  world.  I'll  tell  you  what 
we'll  do.  When  I  go  to  town  again,  you 
shall  go  with  me,  and  I'll  buy  you  what- 


"MAKE    OR  BREAK"  2$ 

ever  you  would  most  like  to  have.  Will 
that  do  ?  " 

"  Guess  so,"  said  Sammy,  trying  not  to 
look  too  happy. 

"  Take  yer  club  and  drive  some  more," 
he  said.  "What  yer  want  is  ter  foller 
t' rough.  Go  right  over  on  yer  left  foot 
this  way,"  and  the  club  described  a  per- 
fect sweep.  Patty  watched  him  admir- 
ingly. All  his  angles  and  joints  and  elbows 
seemed  to  disappear  the  moment  he  com- 
menced to  swing.  "Yer  can't  only  get 
it  by  swingin'  and  swingin'.  Yer  don't 
want  no  ball  at  fust,  'cause  it  frightens 
yer." 

After  another  hour  of  instruction,  Patty 
was  ready  to  go  home.  The  two  started 
down  the  beach  together,  and  for  the  first 
time  that  morning  Miss  Clark  had  time  to 
be  curious.  Sammy  lounged  along  beside 
her,  apparently  oblivious  to  everything  and 
everybody. 

"  Where  do  you  come  from,  you  queer 
child  ?  "  she  asked,  at  last.  ' 

«Ne'  York." 

"  But  how  did  you  get  here,  and  how 


24  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

do  you  happen  to  know  so  much   about 
golf?" 

"  Well,  yer  see  ever  since  I  was  a  little 
shaver  I've  been  caddyin'  fer  one  of  dem 
big  clubs  near  Ne'  York,  an'  last  winter 
dere  was  a  feller  just  crazy  mad  'bout  it, 
an'  he  took  me  out  one  day  in  a  blizzard, 
an'  dey  all  said  he  was  clean  gone  off,  an' 
I  got  amonia,  an'  when  he  seed  I  couldn't 
get  well  nohow,  he  says  :  '  Sammy,  me  boy, 
I'll  send  yer  down  ter  an  ole  lady  fren'  of 
mine  in  der  country.  She's  a  dear  ole 
lady,  an'  she'll  fix  yer  up  like  a  king,  an' 
yer  can  caddy  at  der  club  down  dere, 
an'  show  dem  fellers  a  t'ing  or  two.' 
So  I  came  down,  an'  de  old  lady's  a 
corker,  yer  bet  yer." 

"  Is  she  very  good  to  you,  Sammy  ?  " 
"  Better  den  anybody  ever  was  fofore." 
"  Do  you  get  goodies,  Sammy  ?  " 
"  My  eye  !  Don't  I,  though  ?     Chicking 
all    yer    can    eat,    an'    ice-cream,   an'    fat 
bacon,  an'  —  an'  —  every  t'ing." 

"What  is  your  friend's  name?"  asked 
Patty,  with  interest. 

"  His   name   is    Mister   Jack    Sturgis," 


"MAKE    OR  BREAK"  25 

said  Sammy,  grandiloquently,  "an*  he 
was  down  here  yesterday.  I  caddied  fer 
him,  and  he  went  round  in  eighty-two. 
He  is  a  winner,  he  is." 

Patty's  face  flushed  crimson. 

"  Sammy,"  she  said,  hastily,  "  I  want 
you  to  promise  me  never  to  tell  Mr. 
Sturgis  anything  about  me.  You  see  I 
know  him  very  well,  and  I  want  to  —  to 
surprise  him." 

"  I  ain't  goin'  to  tell  nobody  nuthin'," 
said  Sammy,  deeply  offended.  "  Guess 
yer'd  better  promise  not  ter  tell  no  one 
yerself." 

Nevertheless,  they  parted  firm  friends, 
and  every  day  that  week  saw  them  work- 
ing together.  Patty  made  marvellous 
strides.  Not  daring  to  appear  on  the 
links,  she  was  not  tempted  to  play  round 
"just  to  see  what  she  could  do."  Sammy 
kept  her  strictly  in  hand,  and  very  rarely 
condescended  to  praise.  On  Friday  morn- 
ing Patty  appeared  with  all  of  Jack's  kit. 
Sammy  recognised  them  at  once. 

"Yer  got  his  clubs,"  he  said,  with  a 
little  frown. 


26  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"  Yes,"  answered  Patty,  quickly.  "  He 
—  he  lent  them  to  me,  Sammy." 

Sammy  pondered. 

"  Must  be  kinder  stuck  on  yer,  then," 
he  said,  at  length,  "  'cause  he  don't  lend 
his  clubs  to  nobody." 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  answered  Patty, 
weakly. 

Miss  Clark  was  beginning  to  develop  a 
very  pretty  form.  She  had  a  long,  full 
swing  with  plenty  of  snap  as  the  club  met 
the  ball,  and  a  good  follow  through.  They 
took  each  club  faithfully  and  impartially, 
Sammy  marking  the  respective  distances, 
and  sternly  requiring  the  technical  name 
of  every  stroke  played.  At  last  Patty 
threw  down  the  putter,  and  stretched  her- 
self out  on  the  sand.  Sammy  began 
fumbling  in  his  pocket,  finally  producing 
something  resembling  an  old  oil  rag,  then 
he  picked  up  Jack's  caddy-bag,  and  seated 
himself  beside  Miss  Clark. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Sammy  ? " 
she  inquired,  lazily. 

"Shine  'em." 

"  For  whom  ?  " 


"MAKE    OR   BREAK"  2/ 

"  Fer  him.     Ain't  he  comin'  down  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so,"  Patty  answered,  slowly. 
"Will  they  be  very  bright,  Sammy?" 

"  Bet  yer,"  he  answered,  handling  them 
lovingly. 

"Just  think,"  she  said,  after  a  moment, 
"I  can't  have  another  lesson  this  week, 
and  this  is  only  Friday.  Just  one  more 
drive,  just  one,  Sammy." 

She  jumped  up  hastily,  and  the  boy 
teed  her  ball.  Placing  her  feet  well  apart, 
with  the  fingers  of  her  right  hand  showing 
to  the  first  knuckle,  she  took  a  slow  back, 
and  brought  the  club  down  with  magnifi- 
cent force.  The  ball  shot  away,  on  and 
on,  into  the  dim  distance,  but  with  it  went 
the  head  of  Jack's  driver. 

Patty  stood  horror-struck,  with  the 
broken  shaft  in  her  hand,  while  Sammy 
ran  to  pick  up  the  head. 

"  It's  a  gorner,"  he  said,  looking  at  it 
ruefully. 

"  Oh,  Sammy,  what  shall  we  do,  and  he 
comes  this  afternoon.  Is  it  absolutely 
hopeless  ? " 

"  'Tain't  good  for  a  cent,"  turning  the 


28  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

broken  head  round  and  round  in  his 
hand. 

"  Was  it  a  very  good  one  ?  " 

"  'Bout  as  good  as  dey  make  'em.  It 
was  a  Burton." 

Patty  clapped  her  hands  together  and 
shook  Sammy  violently. 

"  Why,  do  you  know,  Burton  is  at 
Meadowville,  and  Meadowville  is  only  a 
short  distance  from  here.  I'll  go  over  by 
train  and  get  him  a  new  club,  and  if  I  am 
too  late  for  the  train,  I'll  go  over  on  my 
wheel.  Oh,  Sammy,  I  think  we  are 
saved." 

"  I'll  go  wid  yer,"  said  Sammy,  enthu- 
siastically, "  yer  can't  get  it  alone  'cause 
yer  don't  know  nuthin'  'bout  clubs. 
We'll  get  yer  some  fer  yerself,  if  yer've 
got  money  'nough,"  he  added,  doubtfully. 

"  Oh,  I  have  cords  of  money,"  said 
Patty,  and,  gathering  up  the  scattered 
clubs,  she  started  up  the  beach  on  a 
run. 

Late  that  afternoon  a  dainty  figure  rose 
from  the  depths  of  a  piazza  chair,  and 
greeted  Jack  with  languid  sweetness. 


"MAKE    OR  BREAK"  29 

Patty  wore  a  white  organdy,  all  fluffs 
and  frills,  a  little  train  swept  gracefully 
behind  her,  and  her  bronze  slippers  had 
the  highest  of  high  Louis  Quinze  heels. 
The  evening  light  caught  the  masses  of 
her  hair,  and  heightened  the  colour  in  her 
brown  cheeks.  Jack  came  forward  eagerly, 
then  fell  back  into  the  usual  careless 
friendliness,  as  he  saw  the  group  of  men 
surrounding  her.  Just  as  he  was  about 
to  pass,  something  white  she  had  been 
holding  dropped  at  his  feet.  He  picked  it 
up  and  smiled  as  he  handed  it  to  her. 

"  Still  embroidering  ? "  he  asked,  mock- 
ingly. 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  Patty 
followed  him  into  the  house. 

"  I  want  to  see  you  for  a  moment,  Jack. 
Won't  you  wait  a  second  before  you  go  to 
your  room  ? " 

"What  is  it,"  he  asked,  leaning  over  the 
banister. 

"  You  know  you  left  me  your  clubs  to 
take  care  of,"  she  began,  nervously,  "and 
some  one,  I've  promised  not  to  tell  who, 
broke  your  driver.  It  was  a  very  mean 


3O  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

and  careless  and  unpardonable  thing  to 
do,  and  it  was  wrong  of  me  to  lend  them," 
she  went  on,  hurriedly,  as  he  murmured 
something  under  his  breath,  "  but  my 
friend  has  given  me  another  driver  as 
nearly  like  yours  as  possible.  It  is  here 
in  your  bag ;  won't  you  look  at  it  ? " 

She  could  see  that  he  was  white  with 
anger,  although  he  did  not  say  one  word. 
His  face  flushed  curiously  as  he  looked  at 
the  name  on  the  club,  and  tested  its 
weight  and  balance. 

Patty  watched  him  with  changing  colour. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  club,"  he  said,  at 
length,  as  he  put  it  quietly  back,  "much 
better  than  my  old  one.  It  is  a  Burton 
special,  but  I  should  have  preferred  not  to 
lose  my  own.  You  lent  it  ? "  he  asked, 
looking  at  her. 

"Yes." 

"  To  whom  ? " 

"To  a  friend  of  mine,"  she  answered, 
defiantly. 

He  studied  her  face  for  a  moment. 

"  You  like  this  friend  very  much  ? "  he 
asked,  at  length. 


"MAKE    OR  BREAK"  31 

"  Very  much,"  she  answered,  steadily. 

"  I  shall  not  forget,"  he  said,  "  it  is  per- 
haps just  as  well  that  I  should  know  first 
as  last,  only  "  —  he  paused  a  moment  — 
"  when  I  meet  that  man,  I'll  tell  him  what 
I  think  of  him."  The  ending  was  sudden 
and  evidently  changed. 

"  Don't  let  me  detain  you,"  he  inter- 
rupted, as  he  saw  she  was  about  to 
speak.  "I  have  kept  you  too  long  al- 
ready." 

That  evening  Jack  spent  in  smoking 
cigars  and  exchanging  stories  with  Mr. 
Clark  in  the  little  den  off  the  dining-room. 
Seeing  that  he  would  not  be  appeased, 
Patty  flirted  desperately.  Too  proud  to 
make  further  overtures,  and  too  obstinate 
to  confess  she  had  broken  the  driver  her- 
self, the  "rift  within  the  lute"  widened, 
and  Jack  went  away  on  Monday  morning 
sad  at  heart,  though  not  wholly  realizing 
why  he  felt  so  like  the  famous  wooden 
spoon  with  its  lump  of  lead.  The  follow- 
ing week  Miss  Clark,  with  a  sigh  of  relief, 
tore  open  a  letter  addressed  in  Jack's  big 
sprawling  hand. 


32  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

"  Dear  Patty,"  she  read,  "  I  want  to 
thank  you  for  my  very  charming  stay  with 
you,  and  for  the  many  delightful  times  you 
have  given  me  this  summer.  You  know  I 
am  not  much  at  '  bread  and  butter '  letters, 
but  as  I  start  for  Colorado  in  a  few  days 
on  a  hunting  trip  with  Bill  Sanderson,  I 
thought  your  dear  mother  might  wonder 
why  I  did  not  appear  like  the  proverbial 
bad  penny. 

"  I  wish  you   a  very  pleasant  summer, 
and  trust  I  may  see  you  in  the  fall.    I  am, 
"  Very  faithfully  yours, 

"JOHN  STURGIS." 

Patty  tore  the  letter  into  bits,  and 
watched  them  as  they  fluttered  away. 

"  So  be  it,"  she  said,  at  last,  although 
her  eyes  were  suspiciously  bright,  "but 
was  the  old  driver  worth  it,  I  wonder  ?  " 


SAMMY 


II 

SAMMY 

"  TT'S  time  fer  yer  ter  begin,"  said 
J-  Sammy,  dictatorially,  as  he  put  up 
Miss  Clark's  clubs  one  morning  after  four 
weeks'  solid  practice. 

"  Begin,  but  I  have  begun." 

"  No,  yer  ain't,"  he  contradicted,  "  yer 
can  only  play  strokes.  Wait  till  yer  get 
on  der  links  wid  a  lot  of  odder  fellers,  an' 
yer'll  see  der  difference." 

"  Do  you  mean  —  do  you  think  that  I 
am  really  fit  to  go  out  and  play  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  Well,  yer  see,  I've  taught  yer  'bout  all 
I  can  dis  way,"  said  Sammy,  reflectively, 
"  an'  yer  won't  never  get  no  furder  if  yer 
don't  play  ball.  Tell  yer  what,"  he  said, 
with  a  touch  of  excitement,  "  der's  a  weekly 
handicap  at  der  Club  ter-morrer  afternoon. 
35 


36  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

Lemme  enter  yer,  an'  I'll  caddy  fer  yer  an' 
tell  yer  what's  what.  We'll  get  yer  der 
limit  handicap  an'  den  watch  der  fedders 
fly."  Sammy  gave  a  whoop  and  turned  a 
somersault  to  relieve  his  feelings. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  can  do  it,"  said  Patty, 
nervously,  yet  with  longing  written  in 
every  line  of  her  face. 

"Yer  must"  said  Sammy,  "or  else  I 
won't  teach  yer  no  more.  No,  sir,  yer  got 
ter  be  a  dead  game  sport,  an'  I'll  stand  by 
yer  every  time." 

The  following  afternoon  there  was  a 
sensation  on  the  Club  piazza  when  Patty 
appeared  carrying  her  caddy-bag. 

"  A  charming  recruit,"  said  dapper  little 
Mr.  Peterson,  the  chairman  of  the  golf 
committee.  "  We  have  given  you  the  — 
ah  —  limit,  27  —  as  we  understand  you  are 
quite  a  novice.  Hope  you  won't  mind 
either  way,  Miss  Clark,  too  much  or  —  ah 
—  too  little,  don't  yer  know." 

The  women  all  crowded  around  Miss 
Clark  to  encourage  her,  some  very  patron- 
isingly. 

"  So    glad    you've    joined    us    at    last, 


SAMMY  37 

Patty,"  said  young  Mrs.  Gerard,  who 
thought  herself  a  "crack."  "You  were 
altogether  out  of  it,  you  know,  and  I 
felt  so  sorry." 

"Patty  always  seems  so  much  out  of 
everything,"  remarked  Miss  Duane,  ironi- 
cally. 

"  Oh,  in  a  ballroom  Patty  is  un- 
equalled," said  Mrs.  Gerard,  condescend- 
ingly, "  nevertheless  I  am  glad  to  see  her 
read  the  signs  of  the  times,  and  cultivate 
her  muscle." 

"  Isn't  it  jolly  that  you  and  I  are  paired 
together,"  said  Miss  Duane,  linking  her 
arm  in  Patty's.  "  I'm  so  fond  of  you  that 
I'll  forgive  even  bad  play.  It's  our  turn 
to  start  in  a  few  minutes.  Have  you  a 
caddy?" 

"Yes,  thanks,"  said  Patty,  flushing 
slightly.  Then  they  walked  toward  the 
first  tee. 

Sammy  came  up  to  her  and  took  her 
clubs  with  stolid  indifference. 

"  Keep  your  eye  on  der  ball,  and  don't 
get  scared,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone,  as  he 
walked  away. 


38  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

"  Which  hand  will  you  have  ? "  asked 
Miss  Duane. 

"  What's  that  for  ? "  demanded  Patty  in 
surprise. 

"  For  the  honour,  goosie.  You  are  a 
little  duffer.  Come,  which  hand  ?" 

"  The  right,"  said  Patty,  breathlessly. 

"  Left  wins,"  answered  Miss  Duane,  pro- 
ducing the  ball.  She  made  a  beautiful 
drive  and  cleared  the  bunker. 

Patty  knelt  down  and  teed  her  ball. 

"  Where  is  the  hole  ?  "  she  asked,  look- 
ing down  the  course  in  a  blind  sort  of 
way. 

"  Play  in  a  direct  line  for  that  far  post 
to  the  left ;  keep  well  up  or  you'll  catch 
the  roll  of  the  hill." 

Patty  took  her  stance  with  an  air  of 
desperation.  Her  heart  was  beating  like 
a  sledge-hammer,  and  the  ball  seemed  to 
whirl  around  madly.  She  forgot  all  her 
instructions,  all  her  good  resolutions,  and 
clutching  the  club  made  a  desperate,  im- 
possible lunge.  The  result  was  a  bad  top, 
and  the  ball  trickled  off  about  ten  yards. 
The  women  standing  around  smiled  at 


SAMMY  39 

each  other,  and  dismissed  her  from  their 
list  of  possibilities. 

"Poor  little  Patty,"  said  Mrs.  Gerard, 
gently.  "I  am  really  very  fond  of  her, 
but  it  will  be  a  trial  to  play  behind  her, 
won't  it  ?  " 

Sammy  came  up  to  his  protegee  and 
handed  her  a  brassey.  His  face  wore  an 
expression  of  ineffable  disgust. 

"T'ought  yer  was  a  sport,"  he  said, 
bitingly,  "but  yer  only  like  all  odder 
girls,  so  scared  yer  can't  see  nuthin'. 
Take  yer  brassey  and  put  her  over  der 
bunker;  yer  can  do  it  if  yer  want  ter." 

But  Patty  was  fast  in  the  clutches  of 
"stage  fright,"  and  topping  again  she 
went  in  instead  of  over.  It  cost  her 
three  to  get  out,  and  when  she  finally 
counted  up  her  score  she  had  a  round 
ten  for  the  first  hole.  At  the  second  tee, 
Miss  Duane  made  another  long  drive,  and 
Patty,  getting  more  and  more  nervous, 
"foozled"  badly. 

Sammy  lounged  up  to  her  and  saun- 
tered along  by  her  side. 

"Yer  jest  scared  blue,"  he  remarked, 


4O  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

resentfully,  "  an'  'tain't  like  yer.  When 
yer  playin'  in  a  tourneyment  yer  want 
ter  play  each  stroke  fer  hisself  ;  yer  don't 
want  ter  t'ink  'bout  how  yer  doin'.  'Tain't 
no  use  ter  pay  'tention  ter  yer  partner 
when  yer  playin'  fer  score,  'cause  yer  ain't 
tryin'  to  beat  one  pusson,  but  der  field. 
All  yer  want  ter  do  is  ter  keep  cool  an' 
hit  easy.  Take  yer  brassey  agen,"  he 
said,  as  they  reached  the  ball.  "  Now  fer 
it." 

But  Patty  topped  hopelessly  and  turned 
to  Sammy  with  tears  in  her  eyes.  "  You'd 
better  give  me  up,  Sammy.  This  is 
agony" 

"No,  'tain't;  it's  rattles,"  said  Sammy, 
positively.  "Tell  yer  what,  if  yer  mind 
can  do  any  t'inkin'  'tall  when  yer  come  ter 
yer  next  brassey  remember  not  ter  look 
at  der  top  of  der  ball,  but  at  der  under 
side  of  it,  an'  at  der  ground."  He  might 
as  well  have  talked  to  the  wind.  Patty 
made  "  flub-dub  "  after  "  flub-dub,"  and  did 
a  seven  to  Miss  Duane's  four.  As  they 
walked  to  the  third  tee,  Mrs.  Gerard,  who 
had  hurriedly  holed  out,  called  to  them. 


SAMMY  41 

"  Do  you  mind  if  we  pass  you  ? "  she 
said,  walking  up  and  teeing  her  ball,  with- 
out waiting  for  a  reply.  "I  have  quite 
a  good  score  so  far,  and  waiting  always 
breaks  me  up.  Patty  doesn't  count,  any 
way,  and  Miss  Duane  is  so  steady  that 
nothing  ever  phases  her,  so  of  course  it's 
all  right." 

Her  tone  was  so  absolutely  self-satisfied 
that  Miss  Duane,  amazed  though  she  was, 
had  to  smile.  Patty's  eyes  flashed,  then 
suddenly,  without  rhyme  or  reason,  she 
felt  all  nervousness  leave  her.  With  a 
glance  at  Sammy  she  stepped  forward 
and  placed  her  ball.  The  carry  was  about 
eighty-five  yards  .over  a  marshy  pond  with 
some  ugly-looking  broken  fence  rails  in 
the  foreground.  It  was  only  about  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  yards  to  the 
green,  but  the  moral  effect  of  this  hazard 
was  usually  so  strong  that  even  the  cracks 
dreaded  it.  Patty,  however,  in  blissful 
ignorance  of  its  terrors  and  reputation, 
took  her  stance  and  direction  and  put  her 
ball  on  the  green. 

"  My   dear !  "    exclaimed   Miss   Duane, 


42  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

looking  at  her  in  astonishment.  "That 
was  a  beautiful  ball,"  she  added,  "  but  you 
drove  right  on  top  of  Mrs.  Gerard  when 
she  was  putting.  She  is  perfectly  furious. 
I  can  tell  by  her  motions,  and  she  thinks 
I  did  it.  What  a  joke.  It  was  my  honour 
also,"  turning  to  Patty.  "  I  suppose  you 
had  no  idea  it  would  go  so  far." 

"  The  drive  was  intentional,"  said  Patty, 
with  a  queer  little  smile,  "but  the  other 
things  I  did  were  mistakes.  I  had  no  idea 
one  had  to  wait  so  long  for  people." 

"Until  after  the  second  shot,  or  on  a 
short  hole  like  this  until  those  ahead  of 
you  have  putted  out,"  explained  Miss 
Duane. 

Sammy's  eyes  gleamed  under  his  white 
eyelashes,  as  he  handed  Patty  her  club. 

"  Go  it,"  he  said,  "  go  it,  an'  do  'em  up, 
yer  all  right  now,  an'  I'm  backin'  yer  fer 
keeps." 

From  that  time  on  Patty  played  better 
than  she  knew.  Her  drives  were  long  and 
straight,  and  her  brasseys  steady.  She  lost 
badly  on  her  approaches,  and  on  the  green 
made  Sammy  groan,  but  for  such  a  nov- 


SAMMY  43 

ice  her  performance  was  remarkable,  and 
Sammy  spent  some  of  his  spare  mo- 
ments between  tees  turning  somersaults ; 
the  rest  of  the  time  he  devoted  to  coach- 
ing. 

"Yer  short  approach  is  a  little  wrist 
one,  I  tell  yer.  Can't  yer  remember  what 
I  say  ?  Not  a  full  swing,  ner  even  half  a 
one,  an'  when  yer  put  long  puts,  yer  foller 
t'rough  jest  like  yer  do  wid  everyt'ing  else. 
Yer  can't  make  der  ball  go  straight  if  yer 
don't." 

Miss  Duane  watched  Patty's  game  with 
growing  astonishment.  Good-natured  as 
she  was,  she  could  not  help  feeling  a  little 
out  and  injured. 

"  You  can't  tell  me  you've  never  had  a 
club  in  your  hand  before,"  she  remarked, 
as  they  approached  the  seventh  tee.  "  Your 
form  is  too  good,  and  you  go  about  it  as 
though  you  knew  what  you  were  doing. 
You  might  as  well  own  up,  Patty  Clark, 
and  tell  us  how  you  did  it." 

"I  didn't  say  I'd  never  held  a  club," 
replied  Patty,  evasively,  "but  I  did  say 
I  had  never  been  on  any  links  before.  It 


44  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

is  gospel  truth,  as  my  awful  blunders  must 
prove." 

Mrs.  Gerard  had  been  spending  quite  a 
little  of  her  time  looking  back.  She  was 
evidently  not  coming  in  very  well,  for  the 
pair  behind  her  saw  divots  fly,  and  signs 
of  temper  at  long  range. 

"Mrs.  Gerard  has  it  in  for  some  one," 
remarked  Miss  Duane,  cheerfully,  "you 
know  it  is  never  Mrs.  Gerard  who  plays 
badly,  but  always  some  outside  thing  that 
happens." 

"  Is  it  accidental,  too,  when  she  does 
well  ? "  asked  Patty,  with  a  laugh. 

"  No,  it  is  the  reward  of  virtue,"  replied 
her  friend. 

Although  Miss  Duane  was  beginning  to 
realise  that  sometime  Patty  might  prove 
dangerous,  no  one  was  prepared  for  the 
result  when  the  scores  were  posted,  and 
Patty's  name,  with  her  limit  handicap, 
headed  the  list.  After  a  dead  silence,  in 
which  every  one  seemed  trying  to  grasp 
the  situation,  a  perfect  Babel  of  voices 
rent  the  air,  while  Patty  stood  in  the 
centre  of  the  excited  group,  doubt,  chagrin, 


SAMMY  45 

pleasure,  and  amusement  crossing  her  face 
in  rapid  succession. 

"I  wouldn't  have  thought  it  of  you, 
Patty  Clark,"  said  Mrs.  Gerard,  as  soon 
as  she  could  make  herself  heard.  "  I 
didn't  think  you  had  a  mean  bone  in  your 
body,  but  you  have  taken  us  all  into  camp, 
and  by  a  trick,  too.  It's  a  shame,"  she 
continued,  turning  to  Miss  Duane,  "that 
silver  candlestick  was  just  what  I  needed 
for  my  dressing-table." 

Miss  Duane  looked  up  at  the  scores. 

"  I  don't  see  what  you  have  against  poor 
Patty,  for  you  are  fifth  and  I  am  second." 

"  I  have  everything  against  her,"  cried 
Mrs.  Gerard,  "she  kept  playing  on  top  of 
me  all  around  the  course.  If  she  did  it 
once  she  did  it  a  dozen  times,  and  I  was 
so  astonished  and  bothered  by  her  game 
that  I  couldn't  play  a  little  bit.  I  never 
did  like  her,  anyway,"  she  said,  as  she 
walked  away. 

"  You  never  said  a  truer  thing,"  thought 
Miss  Duane,  looking  after  her,  reflectively. 

"  Dear  me,  how  you  did  jolly  us,  Miss 
Clark  !  "  said  little  Mr.  Peterson,  nervously 


46  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

rubbing  his  hands  together.  "  If  such  a 
thing  were  to  happen  again,  I  should  cer- 
tainly have  to  leave  town." 

"  It  wasn't  intentional,"  said  Patty.  "  Do 
you  know,"  she  added,  as  she  turned  to 
Miss  Duane,  "  I  feel  as  though  I  had  stolen 
something." 

Half  an  hour  later  Patty  started  home 
with  her  candlestick  under  her  arm,  and 
a  devoted  admirer  on  either  side.  Hearing 
sounds  of  a  great  commotion  near  the 
caddy-house,  they  all  went  over  to  inquire 
the  cause.  Turning  the  corner,  they  saw 
a  dancing  ring  of  excited  and  whooping 
caddies,  with  Sammy  in  the  centre,  be- 
labouring one  poor  unfortunate  with  all 
his  might.  Stretched  out  on  the  grass 
were  the  previous  victims  of  Sammy's 
prowess  in  various  stages  of  collapse,  while 
Sammy  himself,  though  still  vigorous, 
looked  decidedly  the  worse  for  wear. 

"  Yer  will,  will  yer,"  he  panted,  between 
each  blow.  "  Guess  yer  won't  next  time. 
I'll  teach  yer  ter  call  names,  yer  ugly 
bruiser.  Come  on  if  yer  ain't  had  'nough. 
I'm  ready ! " 


SAMMY  47 

Young  Osborne  rushed  in  and  literally 
tore  Sammy  away. 

"  What's  got  into  you,  you  young  raga- 
muffin," he  cried,  as  he  caught  him  by  the 
collar  and  shook  him  as  though  he'd  been 
a  terrier. 

"  You  lemme  'lone,"  said  Sammy,  kick- 
ing vigorously. 

Patty  went  up  to  him  and  managed  to 
catch  his  arm. 

"  Sammy,"  she  said,  in  a  horrified  voice, 
"  what  does  this  mean  ? " 

Sammy  stopped  struggling,  and  looked 
up  at  her  out  of  two  black  and  rapidly 
closing  eyes. 

"  Dey  called  yer  a  sleeper,  der  dirty 
good-fer-nothin's,  an'  I  licked  'em  every 
one,  an'  I'll  lick  any  odder  feller  dat  likes 
ter  try  me,  I  will !  "  and  Sammy  squirmed 
like  an  eel  under  Osborne's  restraining 
hand. 

"  A  sleeper,"  said  Patty,  "  what's  that  ? " 

"  Never  mind,"  interrupted  her  compan- 
ion, releasing  Sammy,  and  giving  him  a 
resounding  clap  on  the  shoulder.  "  You're 
a  game  little  beggar,  and  here's  to  you," 


48  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

and  a  big  shining  "  cartwheel "  found  its 
way  into  Sammy's  astonished  hand. 

Patty  looked  at  the  stooping,  ragged 
figure,  and  the  bruised,  defiant  face,  then 
she  slipped  one  arm  across  his  shoulders. 

"  I  don't  know  what  a  sleeper  is, 
Sammy,"  she  said,  gently,  "but  I  do  know 
that  you  fought  for  me,  and  I  love  you 
for  it.  Come  with  me  now,  and  get  your 
poor  eyes  attended  to." 

And  amid  the  admiring  and  respectful 
silence  of  his  vanquished  enemies  Sammy 
was  led  away  in  triumph. 

The  next  morning  but  one  Patty  was 
handed  a  telegram  just  as  she  was  starting 
for  the  beach. 

"  Have  found  the  person  who  broke  my 
driver.  Am  coming  down  to  tell  him 
what  I  think  of  him.  JOHN." 


THE  GREAT  PROFESSIONAL 


Ill 
THE  GREAT  PROFESSIONAL 

HAMILTON,  Richards,  and  I  had 
lately  become  members  of  the  New 
River  Club,  and  were  experiencing  the 
settled  respectable  feeling  that  invariably 
envelops  those  who  have  just  paid  their 
dues  and  their  pew  rent.  We  had  arranged 
to  take  a  lesson  together,  knowing  that  we 
were  all  duffers,  and  believing  that  we  could 
better  face  the  phenomenal  knowledge  and 
skill  of  Todd,  our  Great  Professional,  in 
company.  Each  felt  that  to  attack  him 
singly  would  be  little  less  than  madness. 

We  had  a  few  clubs,  bought  the  pre- 
vious year,  with  such  small  discrimination 
as  we  possessed,  having  in  view  the  rough 
and  rocky  field  near  our  summer  cottage 
where  we  had  laid  out  five  holes,  and  where 
we  had  spent  many  an  absorbed  hour. 
5* 


52  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

Golf,  or  the  game  faintly  resembling  it 
which  we  dignified  by  that  name,  was  an 
entirely  novel  sight  to  the  unenlightened 
natives.  Consequently  our  flags  (made  of 
"  turkey-red "  and  nailed  to  a  bit  of  kin- 
dling wood)  became  trophies  of  inestimable 
value  to  the  village  children.  As  a  result, 
we  never  could  find  the  hole  which  we  had 
cut  the  day  previous,  and  when  our  scores 
had  grown  beyond  what  we  considered 
decent,  we  usually  cut  another  hole,  and 
played  out. 

With  all  this  weighing  on  our  memories, 
and  having  become  a  little  enlightened  as 
to  what  golf  really  should  be,  we  appeared 
at  the  caddy-house,  looking,  as  I  am  sure 
we  all  felt,  very  small,  and  somewhat 
foolish. 

The  Great  Professional  greeted  us  with 
unexpected  cordiality.  He  treated  us  very 
much  as  a  famous  medical  specialist  might 
have  done.  He  was  full  of  mystery,  and 
yet  he  gave  us  subtly  to  understand  that, 
if  we  put  our  confidence  in  him,  we  also 
might  become  great,  of  course  in  a  limited 
degree.  After  holding  two  or  three  im- 


THE   GREAT  PROFESSIONAL  53 

portant  conferences  with  the  workmen 
while  we  waited,  the  Great  Professional 
was  ready  to  attend  to  us. 

"  Four  caddies,"  he  called  to  the  cap- 
tain, then  glanced  at  the  clubs  which  we 
carried  in  our  hands.  "  It  will  be  neces- 
sary for  you  to  have  caddy-bags,  gentle- 
men," he  said,  politely,  but  firmly.  "  Shall 
I  give  you  each  one  of  these  ? " 

We  hastily  assented,  feeling  how  unpar- 
donable it  was  to  have  appeared  without 
them.  Then  we  became  the  proud  posses- 
sors of  new  pig-skin  bags  bristling  with 
pockets,  and  shining  with  dazzling  new- 
ness. The  Great  Professional  then  took 
down  four  boxes  of  new  balls,  and  calling 
an  extra  caddy  sent  him  out  to  join  the 
others.  Then  he  began  to  examine  our 
clubs.  A  slow  smile  of  pitying  contempt 
spread  over  his  face  as  he  looked  at  them. 

"  Dear,  dear,"  he  murmured,  "these  are 
a  very  mongrel  lot,  a  very  mongrel  lot. 
They  look  as  though  they  had  been  made 
by  a  carpenter.  Where  did  you  get 
them  ? " 

We  diffidently  explained  that  we  chose 


54  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

them  ourselves,  more  with  a  view  to 
economy  than  anything  else,  and  had  had 
no  professional  advice  whatsoever. 

"  It  will  be  quite  impossible  for  me  to 
give  you  any  satisfactory  instruction  with 
these,"  he  said,  with  a  pained  expression. 
"  Now  here,"  and  he  picked  up  a  driver, 
"  is  a  club  that  I  can  really  recommend. 
You  see  it  is  superbly  balanced.  I  will 
put  two  of  these  in  each  of  your  caddy- 
bags  and  let  you  keep  the  one  that  suits 
you  best.  Hitting  a  ball  or  two  will  not 
injure  them,  and  you  will  be  much  better 
satisfied  in  the  end." 

We  felt  that  we  were  being  royally 
treated,  —  let  in  on  the  inside  track  in 
fact,  —  so  after  he  had  selected  a  great 
many  clubs,  almost  a  duplicate  set  for  each 
of  us,  we  started  out  for  the  practice  tee. 
We  made  quite  a  little  calvacade,  our  five 
caddies,  our  Great  Professional,  and  our 
three  selves.  We  could  not  help  think- 
ing how  imposing  we  must  appear  to  the 
golfers  coming  down  the  home  green. 

We  were  about  to  produce  a  few  old 
balls,  when  the  Great  Professional  took 


THE   GREAT  PROFESSIONAL  55 

two  boxes  of  new  ones  from  the  caddy 
and  threw  them  carelessly  at  our  feet. 

"  It  is  always  necessary  to  play  with 
new  balls,"  he  announced,  "  old  balls  are 
very  bad  for  the  eye.  It  is  impossible  to 
get  the  proper  focus.  Golf  is  a  game  that 
requires  the  most  perfect  and  delicate 
adjustment  of  everything, — clubs,  balls, 
caddies,  must  all  be  just  so." 

The  practice  tee  was  off  to  the  right  of 
the  course.  A  long,  narrow  strip  of  land 
had  been  cleared,  leaving  high  grass  wav- 
ing in  tawny  picturesqueness  on  either 
side.  One  caddy  he  sent  about  a  hun- 
dred yards  away;  the  others,  with  our 
bags,  grouped  themselves  around  us,  and 
looked  on  in  stolid  indifference. 

We  had  decided  that  Hamilton  should 
start  first,  he  having,  in  our  judgment,  the 
freest  style.  We  were  in  a  frame  of 
mind  to  magnify  his  remembered  excellen- 
cies, and  then,  if  he  did  something  foolish, 
as  we  felt  sure  he  would  do,  and  as  the 
Great  Professional  felt  sure  he  would  do, 
it  would  be  less  trying  to  be  foolish  after 
him. 


56  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

Todd  unbent  himself  sufficiently  to 
make  Hamilton's  tee  ;  on  it  he  placed  a 
beautiful  new  ball,  white,  smooth,  tempt- 
ing. 

"  Take  this  club,"  he  said,  picking  a 
driver  out  of  his  own  bag.  "  It  has  a  very 
short  handle  and  is  well  laid  back,  —  two 
great  essentials  for  a  beginner.  After 
your  style  has  developed,  you  will  be 
ready  for  a  straighter  face  and  a  longer 
shaft.  Just  take  a  trial  swing  without  the 
ball,  and  let  me  see  your  form." 

Hamilton  placed  himself  in  position,  and, 
like  all  beginners,  swung  himself  almost 
off  his  feet. 

"  Ah !  "  said  Todd,  "  you  have  a  good 
natural  style,  but  everything  to  learn.  I 
should  advise  a  course  of  lessons  every 
day  for  some  little  time  before  attempting 
to  go  on  the  course.  In  that  way  I  can 
cure  your  present  bad  habits,  and  prevent 
your  getting  into  worse.  Just  swing  once 
again,  will  you  ?  " 

We  all  felt  that  the  Great  Professional 
was  taking  an  unusual  interest  in  Hamil- 
ton. We  thought  even  better  of  our  good 


THE    GREAT  PROFESSIONAL  $? 

judgment  in  putting  him  forward,  since  it 
was  confirmed  by  so  eminent  a  golfer. 

"  Now  try  a  drive,"  said  Todd. 

Hamilton,  swinging  with  great  force, 
took  his  eye  off,  drew  back  his  body,  and 
foundered  the  ball. 

"Those  things  will  happen,"  said  Todd, 
with  patronising  generosity;  "try  again." 

This  time  the  ball  went  about  eighty 
yards,  but  sliced  badly  into  the  long 
grass.  One  of  the  caddies  started  in  a 
leisurely  manner  in  the  direction  of  its 
fall. 

"  I  would  suggest  that  for  the  present 
you  keep  your  feet  on  the  ground,"  said 
Todd.  "Get  well  over  on  the  left  foot, 
bend  your  left  knee  a  little,  and  keep  your 
body  steady.  You  are  not  yet  ready  for 
too  much  body  motion.  Later  on  you 
can  work  in  the  right  shoulder." 

Richards  and  I  looked  at  each  other  in 
astonishment.  We  had  never  seen  any 
form  quite  like  the  one  Todd  suggested, 
but  still  he  must  know.  We  got  a  little 
away  from  Todd  and  Hamilton,  and  tried 
it  ourselves.  It  felt  very  queer  and  stiff ; 


58  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

but  still  we  were  duffers,  and  we  had  not 
come  out  there  to  criticise,  but  to  learn. 

Hamilton  drove  about  twenty  balls,  and 
really  progressed  somewhat,  although  he 
sliced  and  pulled  badly.  The  caddies 
brought  back  sixteen,  and  said  they  could 
not  find  the  others.  Hamilton  made  no 
comment,  but  looked  somewhat  ruefully 
at  his  mutilated  Silvertowns. 

It  now  being  Richards's  turn,  the  Great 
Professional  threw  out  a  dozen  more  new 
balls.  Richards  was  short  and  extremely 
nervous,  with  a  choppy  little  swing  and  a 
queer  kind  of  push  for  a  follow  through. 
He  gave  one  the  impression  of  being 
afraid  to  let  himself  go.  To  his  intense 
misery,  Todd  changed  all  this,  and  made 
him  swing  freely  over  his  head,  while 
the  balls  flew  wildly  to  the  right  or  to 
the  left,  but  never  by  any  chance  in  the 
proper  direction.  Richards  grew  whiter 
and  whiter. 

"  It's  no  use,"  he  said,  at  last,  throwing 
down  his  clubs  in  disgust.  "  I  can't  tie 
myself  into  a  bow-knot  and  expect  to  hit 
anything." 


THE   GREAT  PROFESSIONAL  59 

"You  must  not  become  discouraged," 
said  the  Great  Professional,  reassuringly. 
"I  am  changing  your  form  for  your  ulti- 
mate good.  If  you  were  to  continue  to 
play  in  your  present  style  you  would  never 
get  one  step  further  forward.  If  you  will 
take  a  number  of  lessons,  as  I  have  just 
suggested  to  Mr.  Hamilton,  one  right  after 
the  other,  you  will  soon  develop  a  good 
game." 

Meanwhile  the  caddies  had  brought  back 
Richards's  balls,  with  five  missing.  It  be- 
ing now  my  turn,  Todd  started  to  shake 
out  another  dozen.  In  the  meantime  I 
had  been  doing  a  little  thinking. 

"  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Todd,"  I  said,  being 
still  somewhat  overawed,  and  a  little  un- 
certain how  to  address  him,  "  I  won't 
need  the  new  dozen  at  present.  I  have 
some  old  balls  here  which  I  think  may  do, 
as  we  seem  to  lose  so  many." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  Todd,  his  ferret- 
like  face  hardening  into  an  expression  of 
dislike.  "  Try  this  new  club,  Mr.  Wyllys. 
You  will  find  it  exactly  suited  to  you,  I 
think." 


6O  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"No,  thank  you,"  I  replied.  "I  am 
used  to  my  own  old  driver,  such  as  it  is, 
and  would  rather  play  with  it,  if  it's  just 
the  same  to  you." 

"  Oh,  without  doubt,"  he  answered,  and 
picking  up  one  of  my  old  balls  as  though 
it  were  a  toad,  he  teed  it  for  me  in  silence. 
He  made  a  few  perfunctory  remarks  about 
my  feet  and  swing,  with  his  eyes  wander- 
ing restlessly  to  the  caddy-house.  Sud- 
denly he  excused  himself,  saying  he  saw 
a  gentleman  with  whom  he  had  an  ap- 
pointment. Taking  out  my  watch,  I 
looked  at  the  time,  and  then  proceeded 
to  drive  my  old  balls  to  my  own  edifi- 
cation, at  least.  Hamilton  was  going 
over  his  clubs  with  the  joy  of  a  child 
with  a  new  toy,  while  Richards  sat  on 
the  grass,  and  seemed  to  be  meditat- 
ing. 

Todd  came  back  in  about  twenty  min- 
utes, and  apologised  for  keeping  me  wait- 
ing. After  five  minutes  or  so  of  careless 
instruction,  he  said  our  time  was  up.  I 
stopped  swinging  in  surprise. 

"  Why,  you  were  away  twenty  minutes, 


THE   GREAT  PROFESSIONAL  6 1 

and  I  have  had  practically  no  lesson,"  I 
said,  looking  him  in  the  eye. 

He  shifted  uneasily,  and  said  he  was 
sorry,  very  sorry,  but  his  absence  had 
been  unavoidable.  A  gentleman  was  wait- 
ing for  him  at  that  very  moment. 

"Then  let  him  wait,"  I  replied,  thor- 
oughly angry  ;  "  you  stay  here,  and  give 
me  the  amount  of  time  which  is  my  due, 
and  which  I  do  not  doubt  you  will  charge 
for.  Then  you  may  make  whatever  apolo- 
gies you  like  —  to  the  other  man." 

Hamilton  looked  at  me  in  undisguised 
wonder,  while  Todd's  face  grew  black. 
He  stayed  the  twenty  minutes,  however, 
and  I  managed  to  get  some  instruction  out 
of  him,  although  it  was  like  examining  a 
refractory  witness  in  a  political  investiga- 
tion. When  my  time  was  finally  over,  we 
all  walked  back  together. 

"  I  think  I  won't  have  that  new  set  of 
clubs,  or  that  pig-skin  caddy-bag,"  I  said 
to  Todd.  "  I  am  afraid  they  are  just  a 
little  beyond  me." 

Todd  said  nothing,  but  bowed  with  all 
the  inimitable  insolence  of  an  Englishman 


62  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

of  his  class.  He  made  several  appoint- 
ments with  Richards  and  Hamilton,  and 
saying  he  had  not  had  time  to  have  the 
checks  made  out,  but  would  send  them 
a  bill,  he  left  us. 

Hamilton  turned  to  me  with  an  annoyed 
expression. 

"  What  was  the  matter  with  you, 
Wyllys  ? "  he  said.  "  You  had  a  regular 
grouch.  The  trouble  with  you  is  you're 
too  careful,  and  too  suspicious.  You  think 
all  the  world  has  a  combination  against 
you.  Those  old  clubs  of  yours  are  of  no 
earthly  use,  while  these  of  mine  are  beau- 
ties, and  selected  especially  for  me,  with 
Todd's  best  judgment.  Golf  is  an  expen- 
sive game,  every  one  admits  that,  and  it 
is  especially  so  at  the  start.  After  you 
get  your  things  together  you'll  be  all 
right." 

"  I'm  glad  you're  satisfied,"  I  replied ; 
"so  far  as  I'm  concerned,  I'm  satisfied 
also.  I  dare  say  I'm  a  crank,  and  all  that, 
but  I  prefer  to  buy  my  clubs  in  my  own 
way,  as  I  go  along.  Then  I  know  better 
what  I  want." 


THE   GREAT  PROFESSIONAL  63 

"  You're  foolish  to  lose  Todd's  advice," 
Hamilton  insisted,  earnestly. 

We  met  Rollins,  as  we  were  going  into 
the  dressing-room. 

"Whew!"  he  whistled,  as  he  looked 
at  Hamilton's  bristling  bag,  "you  have 
gone  into  it.  Two  one-piece  drivers  —  I've 
never  been  able  to  afford  one." 

As  Rollins  was  a  millionaire,  we  looked 
at  each  other,  and  smiled. 

"One  must  have  two  always,"  said 
Hamilton,  looking  wise.  "  If  one  should 
get  broken,  why,  then  you  have  the  other 
on  the  spot." 

"  Humph  !  "  said  Rollins,  "  what  were 
you  doing  to-day?"  examining  the  con- 
tents of  Hamilton's  pockets. 

"  Taking  a  lesson." 

"With  new  balls!"  he  exclaimed,  with 
an  incredulous  smile. 

"Look  here,"  said  Richards,  suddenly, 
"  just  keep  still,  will  you,  Rollins  ?  I  see 
now  that  we've  made  precious  fools  of  our- 
selves, and  allowed  a  man  to  flatter  and 
bamboozle  us  into  getting  about  twice  as 
much  as  we  need,  at  undoubtedly  about 


64  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

three  times  the  price  we  can  afford,  but 
that's  no  reason  why  you  should  stand 
there  rubbing  it  in.  Wyllys  had  a  long 
head,  and  got  out  in  time.  I  know  now 
I've  been  an  idiot,  but  Hamilton  there 
doesn't  see  that  he's  been  fooled  yet. 
He's  the  kind  of  a  man  that  never  learns 
anything  until  he  pays  for  it." 

Three  weeks  later  Hamilton  walked  up 
to  me  with  a  bill  in  his  hand.  He  was  so 
angry  that  he  quite  forgot  I  might  not  be 
altogether  sympathetic.  He  gave  me  the 
paper  without  a  word,  and  this  is  what 
I  read  : 

Two  special  drivers  ...  $  8.00 

One  brassey 2.50 

One  cleek 2.00 

One  lofter 2.00 

One  mashie 2.00 

One  mid-iron 2.00 

One  gun-metal  putter     .     .  1.50 

Three  dozen  balls      .     .     .  10.25 

Five  lessons 5.00 


$35-25 

I  looked  at  him  as  I  returned  it,  and 
tried  not  to  smile.     A  gleam  of  dawning 


THE    GREAT  PROFESSIONAL  65 

recollection  came  into  his  face  as  he  saw 
my  expression. 

"  A  man  may  fool  me  once,  but  he  won't 
do  it  twice,"  he  said,  with  some  embarrass- 
ment, putting  the  bill  in  his  pocket. 

"  I'm  glad  you  have  that  consolation," 
I  could  not  refrain  from  saying,  as  I 
sauntered  away. 


A  MATTER  OF  HONOUR 


IV 

A  MATTER  OF  HONOUR 

THE  Reverend  Hugh  Pierson  sauntered 
up  and  down  the  crowded  waiting- 
room  and  amused  himself  studying  human 
nature.  It  was  rather  remarkable  that  he 
should  have  had  sufficient  energy  to  do  so 
when  "off  duty,"  considering  how  much 
he  came  in  contact  with  it,  good  and  bad, 
in  his  daily  ministrations.  Being  still 
young,  he  had  not  yet  reached  that  inter- 
mediary stage  when  personal  disappoint- 
ments could  make  him  bitter,  or  personal 
joys  indifferent.  He  believed  in  himself, 
in  his  profession,  and  in  the  desirableness 
of  thoroughly  understanding  the  world  and 
the  dwellers  therein.  At  the  present  mo- 
ment he  was  looking  forward  with  the 
keenest  interest  to  his  game  of  golf.  Al- 
though very  early  in  the  season,  the  breath 
69 


7O  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

of  spring  was  in  the  air,  and,  notwithstand- 
ing the  fact  that  it  was  still  Lent,  he  had 
been  unable  to  resist  the  thought  of  a 
long  free  afternoon  in  the  country,  sug- 
gested by  one  of  his  favourite  parishioners. 
He  kept  looking  at  the  clock  impatiently, 
and  wondering  if  the  two  men  who  were 
to  complete  the  foursome  would  appear 
with  his  host.  He  had  no  very  definite 
idea  of  plans ;  he  had  been  told  to  come, 
and  he  came,  with  the  unquestioning  joy 
of  a  schoolboy  out  on  an  unexpected  holi- 
day. Getting  still  more  impatient,  he 
walked  to  the  door  and  looked  up  and 
down  the  street  for  a  sign  of  his  friend. 
As  he  stood  there,  two  very  pretty  young 
women  passed  him,  both  dressed  in  the 
smartest  golfing  fashion.  They  glanced 
at  him  and  passed  on. 

"  Thank  Heaven,  they  are  not  to  be  my 
fate,"  he  murmured  to  himself  ;  then,  sud- 
denly catching  sight  of  Tom  Arnold,  he 
waved  his  cap  delightedly. 

"  Here  you  are  at  last,"  he  said,  heartily. 
"  I  was  half  afraid  you  would  miss  your 
train.  Where  are  the  others  ?  " 


A   MATTER   OF  HONOUR  /I 

"  The  girls  are  probably  waiting  inside. 
I  left  them  only  a  moment  ago." 

"  Girls  !  "  exclaimed  the  Reverend  Hugh, 
stopping  short. 

"  Yes,  girls,"  repeated  Arnold,  stopping 
also,  and  looking  at  him  in  astonishment. 
"  Anything  wrong  about  that  ?" 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  —  quickly  recover- 
ing himself,  —  "  only  I  didn't  understand 
it  was  to  be  a  tea-party.  I  thought  it  was 
to  be  the  real  thing." 

"You  need  not  worry  yourself  about 
that,  my  dear  fellow.  These  girls  will 
give  you  as  much  of  the  real  thing  as  you 
can  stand,  perhaps  a  little  more.  I  was 
anxious  to  have  you  meet  my  wife,"  added 
Tom,  with  a  touch  of  pride. 

"Delighted,"  said  the  Reverend  Hugh, 
hastily.  Then,  with  his  charming  smile, 
"  I  understand  she  is  altogether  lovely ; 
almost  good  enough  for  you,  according  to 
Jackie." 

"  By  the  way,  where  is  Jackie  ?  "  asked 
Arnold,  quickly. 

"  Gone  West  to  join  the  Rough  Riders." 
A  shadow  of  pain  crossed  Tom's  face. 


72  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

"  Is  it  so  ?  "  he  remarked,  thoughtfully. 

Meanwhile  the  girls  had  been  studying 
the  Reverend  Hugh  attentively.  "  He  is 
very  good  looking,  but  too  fair  for  a  man," 
said  Mrs.  Arnold,  reflectively. 

"  Naturally,  since  Tom  is  dark,"  replied 
Lucy  Middleton,  with  a  little  laugh.  "  He 
doesn't  look  one  bit  angelic  without  his 
robes,"  she  added.  "  I  wonder  what  are 
his  real  proportions  of  good  and  bad,  any- 
way. It  would  be  interesting  to  find  out." 

"  Don't,  Lou,"  said  Helen,  a  little  sadly. 
"  let  this  one  man  escape.  If  you  have 
no  pity  for  him  for  his  own  sake,  at  least 
respect  his  cloth." 

"  You  are  very  flattering,"  replied  Lou, 
"  but  it  is  quite  possible  that  he  may  escape 
without  any  self-sacrifice  on  my  part. 
They  don't  all  fall  in  love  with  me,  you 
know." 

"  Nearly  all,"  said  Helen. 

"Well,  Tom  didn't,  anyway." 

"  Oh,  Tom !  "  replied  Helen,  in  an  inde- 
scribable tone. 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  ever  tried  to  make 
him,"  continued  Lucy,  reflectively,  "but 


A   MATTER   OF  HONOUR  ?•$ 

even  if  I  had,  I  don't  believe  I  should  have 
succeeded.  He  sees  through  and  through 
me.  At  least,  so  he  thinks.  I  am  quite 
sure  he  has  told  you  that  I  am  empty  as 
air,  '  sounding  brass  and  tinkling  cymbal.' 
Now  hasn't  he  ? "  Mrs.  Arnold  coloured. 

"  Not  that  I  care,"  said  Lucy,  airily. 
"  He  is  only  one  misguided  man  among  so 
many  appreciative  dears ;  besides,  he  fell 
in  love  with  you,  and  that  would  redeem 
him  in  my  eyes,  even  if  he  said  I  wasn't 
pretty.  Here  they  come,"  she  exclaimed. 
"  He  has  rather  nice  eyes,"  studying  Hugh. 
"Do  you  know,  I  really  believe  we  are 
going  to  enjoy  ourselves." 

"  How  are  we  going  to  play  ?  "  asked 
Helen,  as  they  seated  themselves  in  the 
train. 

"What  a  needless  question,"  answered 
Lucy.  "Just  as  though  it  would  be  pos- 
sible to  keep  you  and  Tom  apart.  It  would 
end  in  your  having  two  partners  and  I 
none.  Mr.  Pierson  and  I  will  play  you 
even,  turning  to  Tom,  "and  beat  you, 
too ;  the  advantage  is  on  our  side  because 
we  are  not  in  love  with  each  other." 


74  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

"  No  one  knows  what  the  day  may  bring 
forth,"  replied  Hugh,  gravely. 

"That  sounds  Biblical,"  said  Miss  Mid- 
dleton,  with  a  startled  air.  "  Isn't  it  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  it  is,"  he  answered,  with  a 
little  flush,  "  but  I  promise  never  to  do  it 
again." 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  are  my  spiritual 
pastor  and  master,  and  that  I  am  one  of 
your  sheep  ?  "  she  said,  after  a  little  pause, 
looking  up  at  him  with  her  glorious  dark 
eyes. 

"  Indeed  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Why,  yes, 
I  believe  you  are,  at  least  to  the  extent 
of  my  making  a  perfunctory  call  at  your 
house  once  a  year.  I  can't  say  that  I've 
ever  found  you  at  home,  nor  do  I  see  you 
very  often  in  church,  either." 

"  Can  you  see  people  in  church  ?  "  she 
asked,  interestedly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  after  awhile,  when  one  gets 
used  to  it." 

"  Where  do  I  sit  ?  " 

"  Somewhere  in  the  back  of  the  church 
in  the  middle  aisle,"  he  answered,  indif- 
ferently. 


A   MATTER   OF  HONOUR  75 

"Yes,  that  is  right,"  she  said,  with 
approval.  Then  she  asked,  suddenly  : 

"  Do  you  dislike  personalities  ? " 

"  It  depends,"  he  answered. 

"  Well,  nice  personalities." 

"  Like  what,  for  example  ? " 

"  I  was  going  to  say  that  you  have 
improved  so  much  in  your  reading." 

"  Have  I  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  with  an  in- 
describable mixture  of  amusement  and 
offended  vanity. 

"  I  know  that  to  say  you  have  improved 
implies  that  there  was  room  for  improve- 
ment," she  said,  slowly,  "  but  you  never 
used  to  do  yourself  justice.  A  successful 
personality  must  be  positive,  not  negative. 
No  one  meeting  you  socially  would  ever 
accuse  you  of  being  negative,"  she  fin- 
ished, with  a  smile. 

"  You  seem  to  arrive  quickly  at  conclu- 
sions," he  commented,  looking  down  at  her 
rather  mockingly. 

"  Oh,  yes,  and  I'm  always  right,"  she 
said,  positively. 

"  I  congratulate  you.  Perhaps  you  will 
show  me  how  to  do  it  some  day." 


76  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"  Perhaps  to-day,"  she  said. 

The  train  drew  up  at  the  station,  and 
they  all  rose  to  pass  out. 

"  She  is  altogether  beautiful,"  said 
Hugh  to  himself,  as  he  watched  her,  and 
a  look  of  intense  admiration  flashed  into 
his  eyes.  Helen  caught  the  expression. 

"  He  is  weaker  than  he  looks,"  she  said 
to  herself,  with  a  little  pang  of  disappoint- 
ment. "  He  is  only  like  all  the  rest.  I 
wish  Tom  had  never  brought  him,  be- 
cause if  he  interests  her  she  will  break 
his  heart."  In  the  dressing-room  she 
made  one  more  attempt  to  rescue  her 
rector. 

"My  dear,"  said  Lucy,  coolly,  "it  is 
my  private  opinion  that  the  reverend  gen- 
tleman can  take  very  good  care  of  him- 
self. I  am  not  the  first  woman  he  has 
ever  met.  He  must  know  us  pretty  thor- 
oughly ;  besides,  he  is  familiar  with  my 
reputation,  —  he  was  kind  enough  to  tell 
me  so.  I  have  not  had  time  to  make  up 
my  mind  about  him,  but  when  I  do  I'll  let 
you  know." 

Helen  gave  a  sigh  and  a  little  shrug. 


A   MATTER    OF  HONOUR  // 

"At  least  I  have  done  what  I  could," 
she  murmured  to  herself. 

A  few  minutes  later  they  were  all  stand- 
ing out  near  the  first  tee. 

"  This  is  delicious  !  "  exclaimed  the  Rev- 
erend Hugh,  inhaling  deep  breaths  of  the 
fragrant  air.  "  It  makes  me  doubly  glad 
that  I'm  alive.  I  wonder  what  kind  of 
characters  we  would  develop  if  after  our 
elaborate  education  we  settled  down  to  a 
simple  country  life." 

"  I'm  afraid  we  would  become  rather 
bovine,"  suggested  Lucy. 

"Or  else  very  honest  and  simple  and 
unpretending,"  added  Tom. 

"Then  we  should  be  stupid,"  cried 
Lucy.  "  Good  people  always  are,  —  they 
stop  and  turn  back  just  when  things  be- 
gin to  get  interesting ;  when  one  has  been 
wicked,  it  is  so  comfortable  to  repent, 
and  after  one  has  repented,  it  is  so  de- 
licious to  be  wicked  again." 

"You  speak  with  feeling,"  said  Hugh, 
cuttingly. 

"  Of  course ;  I've  no  doubt  you  could 
also,  if  you  would." 


78  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"  We  are  all  miserable  sinners,"  said 
Tom,  in  a  cheerful  voice. 

"All  except  me,"  laughed  Lucy,  auda- 
ciously. "  I  may  be  a  sinner,  but  I'm 
never  miserable.  It  doesn't  pay,  and 
then  I've  always  done  exactly  as  I  like, 
and  it  has  never  bothered  anybody ! " 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Tom,  with  a  faint 
tinge  of  sarcasm  ;  "  the  queen  can  do  no 
wrong." 

"  Let's  play  golf,"  suggested  Helen, 
indulging  in  a  magnificent  trial  swing. 

A  number  of  men  had  come  out  to  see 
the  start;  and  had  gathered  around  the 
girls  as  they  talked. 

"  Please  run  away  and  play,"  said  Lucy 
to  them  all,  with  pretty  authority ;  "  this 
is  not  a  social  affair,  it  is  to  be  a  hard 
fought  battle.  I  warn  you,  Mr.  Pierson, 
that  if  through  any  mistake  of  yours  we 
lose  I  shall  never  forgive  you.  There  is 
one  thing  I  will  not  do  to-day.  I  will  not 
play  a  losing  game." 

"  Will  not  ?  "  asked  Tom. 

"  Will  not,"  she  answered,  firmly. 

"  I  must  tell  you  that  there  is  deadly 


A   MATTER    OF  HONOUR  79 

rivalry  between  these  two,"  explained  Tom, 
turning  to  Hugh.  "  They  each  have  their 
name  on  the  championship  cup,  and  they 
play  for  it  again  very  soon.  It  is  impossible 
to  say  which  will  win ;  it  will  simply  be  a 
question  of  nerve,  I  fancy.  No  one  else 
has  even  a  ghost  of  a  chance." 

Both  men  drove  well  away,  and  they 
were  off.  The  day  before  had  been 
showery,  and  the  turf  was  soft  and 
springy  under  their  feet.  Little  white 
clouds  drifted  across  the  sun,  bringing 
first  light,  then  shadow,  like  changing 
thoughts  across  a  woman's  face.  One 
could  almost  see  the  bursting  of  the 
swollen  buds,  and  all  the  little  streams 
hurried  along  busily.  The  girls  in  their 
red  coats  made  a  delicious  bit  of  colour 
against  the  still,  sombre  monotone  of 
awakening  nature. 

"  It  is  my  honour,"  said  Helen,  at  the 
second  tee ;  and,  stooping  down,  she  started 
to  tee  her  ball. 

"  Allow  me,"  said  the  Reverend  Hugh, 
springing  forward. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  Helen  answered,  with 


80  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

a  little  smile,  "  I  always  tee  my  own 
balls." 

Hugh  turned  to  Tom  with  a  delighted 
look. 

"The  test  of  a  true  golfer,"  he  said. 
"  I  see  it  is  to  be  no  tea-party,  after 
all." 

"  Shall  it  be  a  ball  a  hole,  brother  ? " 
suggested  Arnold. 

"  Yes,  if  you  like,"  answered  Hugh. 

It  was  soon  evident  that  the  match  was 
to  be  a  good  one.  Tom  and  Helen  played 
along  with  a  perfect  understanding  of  each 
other's  game  delightful  to  see. 

Miss  Middleton  was  evidently  in  excel- 
lent form,  and  the  Reverend  Hugh,  while 
at  first  a  little  stiff,  soon  got  into  his  long 
St.  Andrew's  swing. 

"  He  hasn't  been  an  athlete  all  his  life 
for  nothing,"  said  Arnold  to  Helen,  watch- 
ing him  drive. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  nine  holes  Tom 
and  his  wife  were  two  up,  and  Hugh  began 
to  study  the  method  of  both  girls  with  the 
greatest  care.  Helen  played  with  the  cool- 
est kind  of  judgment,  content  when  in 


A   MATTER   OF  HONOUR  8 1 

difficulty  to  play  back  into  the  course  with 
the  loss  of  one,  rather  than  attempt  im- 
possibilities. Miss  Middleton,  while  very 
brilliant,  was  evidently  a  victim  to  the 
long  driving  habit,  and  pressed  constantly. 
She  rarely  played  safe,  but,  relying  on 
her  really  superior  skill,  took  tremendous 
chances.  She  never  thought  of  consult- 
ing her  partner,  but  played  her  own  game, 
while  he,  with  growing  irritation,  watched 
her  lose  two  or  three  important  strokes 
through  bad  judgment. 

At  the  eleventh  hole,  the  men  had 
driven.  Tom  put  rather  a  short  ball  this 
side  of  the  brook,  while  the  Reverend 
Hugh  cleared  the  hazard  triumphantly, 
and  appeared  to  have  forced  a  very  good 
lie.  Upon  coming  up  to  it,  however,  he 
found  the  ball  in  a  cup,  and  observed  with 
horror  that  Miss  Middleton  took  out  her 
brassey. 

"  Do  you  think  you  had  better  attempt 
that  club  ? "  he  finally  ventured  to  ask. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered,  confidently, 
"  it  is  very  much  laid  back,  and  made  to 
pick  up  just  such  a  ball."  Taking  a  full 


82  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

swing,  she  brought  the  club  down  too 
straight,  topping  badly,  and  burying  the 
ball  deep  into  the  ground. 

"  I  wonder  how  I  ever  came  to  do  that," 
she  exclaimed,  with  surprise.  "  I  must 
have  taken  my  eye  off." 

"  Your  eye  had  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
You  used  bad  judgment,  and  I  told  you 
so,"  answered  Hugh,  decidedly. 

Miss  Middleton  looked  at  him  in  undis- 
guised astonishment. 

"  I  think  I  understand  my  own  game," 
she  remarked,  coldly. 

"  Possibly  you  do,  but  I  understand  it 
better,"  he  retorted,  quietly. 

Miss  Middleton's  eyes  flashed,  but  she 
remained  silent. 

On  the  green,  she  made  a  remarkably 
clever  put,  halving  the  hole,  and  Hugh 
relaxed  a  little. 

"That  was  a  beauty,"  he  said,  enthusi- 
astically. 

The  contest  grew  more  interesting, 
Hugh  and  Miss  Middleton  keeping  Tom 
and  his  wife  well  in  hand,  although  they 
still  held  their  lead  of  two  holes,  and  Tom 


A   MATTER   OF  HONOUR  83 

had  developed  a  putting  streak  that  would 
have  discouraged  Douglas  himself. 

"  Dormie  two,"  said  Arnold  to  Hugh,  as 
they  crossed  to  the  sixteenth  tee. 

"  We'll  make  you  play  an  extra  hole," 
replied  Hugh.  "  No  match  is  won  until 
it's  won." 

Lucy  and  her  partner  made  the  seven- 
teenth hole  in  four,  which  was  one  better 
than  bogie,  and  Lucy  was  jubilant. 

"  Who  says  we  won't  halve  it,"  she  said, 
tossing  a  ball  high  into  the  air,  and  catch- 
ing it  dexterously.  It  was  Lucy's  honour, 
and  she  made  a  beautiful  drive  from  the 
home  tee.  Helen  put  a  ball  very  near  her, 
securing  a  perfect  lie.  Tom  playing  the 
odd,  tried  to  do  too  much,  and  pressing, 
gained  only  a  few  feet. 

Helen  gave  a  little  exclamation  of  de- 
spair. 

"  Steady,  meh  lady,  we  are  not  dead  yet," 
said  Tom,  smiling  down  at  her.  Hugh, 
playing  the  like,  made  a  beautiful  brassey, 
but  the  ball  stopped  rolling  just  in  front 
of  a  little  hummock,  giving  Lucy  a 
wretched  lie.  Helen  playing  the  odd, 


84  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

and  a  little  off  her  nerve,  foozled  badly, 
and  refused  to  be  comforted. 

Lucy  looked  at  her  ball  doubtfully. 

"  How  maddening !  "  she  cried,  studying 
the  lie  carefully. 

"  Please  don't  take  that  club,"  said 
Hugh,  hastily,  as  she  finally  put  her  hand 
on  her  brassey. 

"  I  certainly  shall,"  she  answered,  wil- 
fully. 

"  But  it  is  a  hanging  lie,  as  well  as 
almost  bunkered.  If  you  must  get  dis- 
tance, take  your  mashie-iron  and  put  it 
there,"  pointing  to  a  level  piece  of  turf 
just  this  side  of  the  road. 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  she 
retorted,  deliberately. 

Standing  a  little  too  far  away,  she  toed 
the  ball,  and  it  flew  directly  at  right  angles, 
apparently  landing  in  a  clump  of  rhododen- 
dron bushes. 

"  There !  "  she  cried,  in  a  passion,  and, 
turning  to  Hugh  with  flashing  eyes,  "  this 
comes  of  your  interference.  I  wish  you 
would  leave  me  alone.  I  can  not  play 
when  I  am  coached  every  other  minute !  " 


A   MATTER   OF  HONOUR  85 

Hugh  looked  black,  then,  throwing  his 
head  back,  he  burst  into  a  laugh,  and 
turned  to  Miss  Middleton  with  bright  good 
humour. 

"Perhaps  I  have  bothered  you,"  he 
admitted,  frankly.  "  I  won't  again." 

"  It  is  rather  late  in  the  day  to  mend 
matters,"  she  answered,  still  wrathful. 

"  Come,  children,  don't  quarrel.  You 
have  only  lost  one  stroke,  and  the  ball  is 
quite  playable,"  called  Tom  from  the  other 
side  of  the  course. 

Tom  playing  the  odd,  put  a  ball  just 
this  side  of  the  green,  and  Hugh,  on 
the  like,  made  a  beautiful  iron,  and 
landed  about  six  feet  away  from  the 
hole. 

Helen  put  dead,  and  Lucy,  studying 
the  green,  decided  to  put  for  the  hole. 
She  caught  the  roll  beautifully,  and  the 
ball  dropped  in. 

"  It  was  our  only  chance  for  the  match," 
she  said,  half  apologetically,  to  Hugh. 

"  I  told  you  we'd  do  it,"  said  Hugh,  not 
noticing  Tom's  expression. 

"Don't    speak    to    me,"   cried   Helen, 


86  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

almost  in  tears.  "We  played  that  last 
hole  like  duffers." 

"  We  certainly  did,"  assented  Tom,  rue- 
fully. 

"  I  hope  we  won't  do  any  more  halving," 
said  Helen,  with  a  little  sigh. 

"  My  inherited  honour,  I  think,"  said 
Hugh,  stepping  up  on  the  tee. 

"  What  a  wretched  ball,"  stopping  sud- 
denly; "perhaps  you  have  a  better  one 
you  might  lend  me,  if  you  will,  Miss 
Middleton." 

"  Mine  is  rather  shabby,  too,"  she  an- 
swered, "but  it  is  better  than  yours,  I 
think." 

"  Eureka,"  he  said,  reading  the  name ; 
"  I  don't  know  it." 

"  It's  the  only  kind  I  ever  play  with," 
Lucy  replied. 

Hugh  drove  a  long  ball,  but  pulled 
badly,  landing  well  out  of  the  course,  in 
the  long  grass.  The  caddie,  whose  little 
legs  probably  ached  with  much  walking, 
began  his  search  languidly. 

"There  goes  our  chance,"  said  Hugh, 
mournfully. 


A   MATTER    OF  HONOUR  87 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  answered  Miss 
Middleton,  "  it's  not  so  bad." 

He  gave  her  a  grateful  little  glance. 

Tom  drove  a  beautifully  straight  ball, 
but  drove  into  one  of  the  ravines  guarding 
the  green.  They  were  nasty  little  hazards, 
and  Lucy's  spirits  rose. 

"  You  see,"  she  said,  turning  to  Hugh, 
"fortune  appears  to  be  impartial." 

Hugh's  caddie  was  still  searching,  in  a 
hopeless  kind  of  a  way,  and  when  Lucy's 
caddie  joined  him  the  two  seemed  to 
accomplish  even  less. 

"Those  boys  will  never  find  it,"  ex- 
claimed Hugh,  "  we  had  better  look  for  it 
ourselves.  We  cant  lose  that  ball  now !  " 

In  the  meantime  Helen  had  played  and 
put  the  ball  half-way  up  the  bank.  Tom, 
playing  two  more,  put  it  on  the  far  side 
of  the  green.  "Let's  go  over  and  help 
them,"  he  suggested. 

They  all  searched  diligently,  but  with- 
out success,  and  the  precious  five  minutes 
were  almost  over. 

"Here  it  is,  oh,  joy!"  cried  Lucy,  sud- 
denly. 


88  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

She  looked  flushed  and  delighted,  and, 
bending  down,  pressed  back  the  grass  so 
that  she  could  play  the  ball.  The  others 
all  stopped  in  surprise. 

"  I  had  no  idea  it  was  so  far  in,"  said 
Tom.  "  Those  caddies  had  about  as  much 
of  an  idea  where  it  fell  as  the  Angel 
Gabriel." 

"  I'm  so  glad  you  found  it,"  said  Helen. 
"I  detest  winning  a  match  on  a  lost  ball." 

Lucy,  taking  her  heavy  mashie,  played 
one  off  two,  and  put  the  ball  in  the  course. 
Helen  playing  two  more,  was  not  up,  and 
gave  Tom  what  he  called  a  "  heart  disease  " 
put. 

Hugh,  who  toward  the  end  of  the 
match  had  played  as  though  inspired, 
made  a  beautiful  approach,  and  the  ball 
lay  dead.  Tom  made  a  heroic  try,  but 
just  rimmed  the  cup,  and  would  not  drop 
in,  the  match  going  to  Hugh  and  Miss 
Middleton. 

Hugh  stooped  and  picked  up  their  ball, 
then  turning  to  Tom  he  held  out  his  hand. 

"I  doubt  if  we  deserved  it,  old  man." 

"  I  know  you  didn't,"  said  Tom,  with  a 


A   MATTEK   OF  HONOUR  89 

good-natured  laugh.  "  Run  along,  girls, 
and  order  tea,  we'll  be  with  you  in  half  a 
minute." 

They  all  soon  gathered  around  the  table, 
which  was  placed  outside  on  the  glass- 
covered  piazza.  The  sun  was  just  setting, 
and  the  keen  cold  blue  of  the  sky  was 
broken  by  long  lines  of  clouds  in  palest 
gold.  The  river  looked  like  polished  steel ; 
the  dusk  came  silently. 

"  Oh,  melting  moment,"  said  Hugh,  con- 
tentedly seating  himself,  "tea,  toasted 
muffins,  and  marmalade ;  it  sounds  almost 
too  good  to  be  true." 

"  It's  too  good  to  last,"  laughed  Helen. 

"  Isn't  it  nice  to  sit  back  and  do  nothing 
while  Helen  does  the  honours  ? "  remarked 
Lucy.  "  It's  always  the  way  with  honours. 
The  people  who  do  them  usually  get  all 
the  responsibility  and  none  of  the  fun." 

"  If  you  mean  to  imply  that  I'm  not 
going  to  have  any  muffins,  you  are  mis- 
taken," remarked  Helen,  decidedly. 

"  I  can't  get  over  that  match,"  said 
Tom,  reflectively.  "  If  you  will  pardon 
my  saying  so,"  turning  to  Lucy,  "  it  was 


9O  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

absolutely  the  most  bull-headed  luck  all 
the  way  through,  for  Helen  and  I  out- 
played you  right  up  to  the  eighteenth 
hole." 

"  And  then  we  made  gooses  of  our- 
selves," added  Helen,  mournfully. 

"  It  was  wonderful  luck  finding  that 
ball  of  mine,"  said  Hugh,  taking  it  out  of 
his  pocket,  "the  grass  was  miles  high. 
Why,  where  did  I  get  this  ?  it's  an  A-i- 
Black." 

"  It's  your  old  ball,  is  it  not  ? "  asked 
Helen. 

"  No  ;  I  played  with  Silvertowns  to-day, 
and  I  made  the  last  drive  with  a  Eureka. 
Don't  you  remember  I  borrowed  Miss 
Middleton's  ball,  and  when  we  holed  out 
I  picked  ours  up.  I  recollect  doing  so 
distinctly.  I  must  have  it  here  some- 
where." 

He  went  through  all  his  pockets  again, 
but  without  success.  Suddenly  he  stopped 
as  though  struck  by  an  unpleasant  sus- 
picion. Leaning  forward  in  his  chair,  he 
looked  into  Lucy's  eyes.  She  returned 
his  gaze  steadily  but  grew  pale.  Tom  and 


A   MATTER   OF  HONOUR  91 

Helen  glanced  from  one  to  the  other  in 
astonishment. 

"  Was  that  our  ball  you  played  ? "  he 
asked,  in  a  low  voice. 

Lucy  looked  haughtily  past  him. 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  Mr.  Pierson." 

"  You  do  not  answer  my  question," 
persisted  Hugh.  "  Was  that  our  ball  ? " 

"  I  refuse  to  answer,"  she  replied,  coolly ; 
"you  are  insulting." 

Hugh  reached  her  side  in  one  stride, 
and  his  hand  closed  over  her  arm  in  a 
grasp  like  a  vise.  He  was  deadly  pale,  and 
his  eyes  glowed  dangerously. 

"  Was  that  our  ball,  or  was  it  not  ? "  he 
repeated,  giving  her  a  little  shake. 

"  How  dare  you  touch  me  !  "  cried  Lucy, 
springing  to  her  feet  and  struggling  to 
free  herself.  "  Let  me  go !  You  are 
insufferable ! " 

"  Answer  me !  "  he  insisted,  tightening 
his  hold,  and  the  blue  eyes  looked  into 
the  angry  brown  ones  with  a  glance  that 
cut  like  steel. 

Lucy  suddenly  became  quiet,  and  they 
both  stood  silent  for  a  moment. 


92  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

"  It  was  not  our  ball,"  she  said,  at  length, 
and  speaking  with  difficulty.  "  I  noticed 
it  was  not  when  I  pressed  the  grass  back." 

Hugh,  suddenly  released  her,  and  leaned 
against  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  piazza. 
He  passed  his  hand  once  or  twice  across 
his  eyes  as  though  trying  to  understand 
what  he  had  heard. 

"  You  are  making  me  appear  dishonour- 
able," cried  Lucy,  passionately. 

"You  are  dishonourable,"  answered 
Hugh,  sternly.  "  You  would  have  ac- 
cepted the  match  knowing  the  ball  was 
not  ours."  He  raised  his  eyes  and  looked 
at  her.  "  You  said  this  afternoon  that 
you  always  did  whatever  you  liked,  and 
it  made  no  difference  to  other  people.  It 
makes  a  very  great  difference  to  a  great 
many  people.  Your  wealth,  your  position, 
what  are  they  in  themselves  ?  It  is  only 
the  use  you  make  of  them,  the  use  you 
make  of  yourself,  that  counts.  The  only 
thing  you  might  have  actually  won  for 
yourself,  —  character,  —  you  have  laughed 
at  and  scorned.  Is  it  possible  that  you 
can  really  be  so  blind,  so  spoiled,  that  you 


A   MATTER   OF  HONOUR  93 

do  not  know  a  woman  without  a  soul, 
without  honour,  is  the  saddest,  the  empti- 
est thing  on  all  God's  earth  ?  " 

He  stopped  abruptly  and  turned  to  Mrs. 
Arnold. 

"Good  afternoon,"  he  said,  bowing  low 
over  her  hand.  "  I  am  so  glad  to  have  had 
this  opportunity  of  meeting  you.  What 
time  is  it  ?  "  turning  to  Tom.  "  I  think  I 
can  get  the  express." 

As  the  men  walked  away,  Helen  went 
up  to  Lucy,  and  put  her  arm  around  her. 

"  Deart  Heart,  what  possessed  you  ?  " 
she  asked. 

Lucy  gave  a  little  tearless  sob. 

"  Send  for  the  carriage,"  Helen  said  to 
a  servant  who  passed. 

They  waited  for  Tom,  and  then  drove 
home  in  silence. 

That  evening,  after  dinner,  the  three 
were  gathered  together  in  the  library. 
The  wood  fire  burned  brightly,  filling  the 
room  with  a  ruddy  glow.  Lucy  sat  in  a 
great  armchair,  her  pale,  beautiful  face 
and  perfect  figure  standing  out  vividly 
against  the  crimson  background.  There 


94  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

were  heavy  rings  under  her  eyes,  and  the 
long  dark  lashes  seemed  too  great  a  weight 
for  the  full  white  lids.  She  was  pretending 
to  read,  and  turned  the  pages  of  her  book 
mechanically.  At  last  she  rose. 

"  I  am  very  tired,"  she  said  ;  "  perhaps 
you  will  excuse  me  if  I  go  to  my  room." 

"  Certainly,  dear,"  answered  Helen. 

Lucy  walked  toward  the  door,  then 
turned  suddenly. 

"You  asked  me  to  tell  you  what  I 
thought  of  your  friend,"  she  said,  looking 
at  Helen.  "  I  hate  him,"  and  the  heavy 
portieres  fell  together  behind  her. 

Tom  gave  a  low  whistle. 

"  Here  endeth  the  first  lesson,"  he  said 
as  his  wife  came  toward  him  and  seated 
herself  on  the  arm  of  his  chair. 

"I'm  afraid  it  is  the  very  first  lesson," 
she  replied,  sadly.  "No  one  has  ever 
spoken  to  Lucy  in  that  way  before." 

"  Hugh  took  it  very  hard,"  said  Tom. 

"  Yes,  I  was  a  little  surprised." 

"  Perhaps  for  his  sake  it  is  just  as  well 
it  ended  as  it  did.  He  might  have  wasted 
his  life  for  her." 


A   MATTER   OF  HONOUR  95 

Tom  reached  up  and  took  his  wife's 
hand.  He  lightly  kissed  the  wedding-ring 
on  her  finger. 

"  Dear  little  hand,"  he  said,  tenderly, 
"  it  was  a  happy  day  for  me  when  it  be- 
came mine.  We  are  wasting  our  lives  on 
each  other,"  laughing  a  little. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  dreamily,  looking 
into  the  fire,  "and  sometimes  I  cannot 
quite  believe  that  we  are  actually  married." 

"And  living  happily  ever  after,"  he 
added,  contentedly,  and  sent  a  great  ring 
of  smoke  rolling  out  and  floating  away. 


THE  SECOND  LESSON 


THE  SECOND  LESSON 

IN  the  rude  little  station  at  Montauk 
Point  a  girl  was  bending  over  the 
prostrate  figure  of  a  young  soldier 
stretched  out  on  the  bare  floor,  his 
knapsack  under  his  head  for  a  pillow. 
His  face  was  yellow,  ghastly,  with  fever 
and  privation.  A  comrade,  scarcely  less 
weak,  was  trying  to  put  the  best  face  on 
the  matter. 

"  You  see,  lady,  we  wouldn't  wait  to  get 
well  in  the  hospital,"  he  said,  apologeti- 
cally. "'Tain't  their  fault  we're  here. 
We're  just  crazy  to  get  home.  He's 
going  out  to  Ohio,  and  I'm  going  almost 
there,  so  I'll  be  able  to  look  after  him." 

"  To  Ohio  !  "  Something  in  the  girl's 
voice  must  have  penetrated  to  the  dim  inner 
99 


IOO  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

consciousness  of  the  sick  man's  brain,  for 
he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  into  her 
face  with  a  pathetic  attempt  at  a  smile. 

"I'm  not  dead  yet,"  he  said,  faintly. 
Tears  rushed  into  her  eyes,  and,  that  the 
men  might  not  see  them,  she  bent  her 
head  and  pretended  to  busy  herself  with 
his  coverings. 

"  It  is  almost  time  for  you  to  be  getting 
on  board,"  she  said,  glancing  at  her  watch. 
"  Do  you  think  you  could  manage  to  walk 
a  few  steps  if  I  helped  you  ? "  Without 
waiting  for  an  answer  she  slipped  her  hand 
under  his  head,  then,  putting  her  arm 
around  his  shoulder,  she  raised  him  to  a 
sitting  position. 

"  He's  too  heavy  for  you,  lady,"  said  his 
comrade,  struggling  to  his  feet. 

"  Not  with  your  help,"  she  answered. 
"  We  can  lift  him  quite  easily,  and  you," 
turning  to  the  sick,  man,  "must  put  one 
arm  over  my  shoulder,  and  the  other 
around  your  friend,  and  do  not  be  afraid 
to  lean  heavily  on  me." 

In  this  wise,  slowly,  and  with  much 
difficulty,  the  three  proceeded  toward  the 


THE  SECOND  LESSON  IOI 

platform.  People  separated  right  and  left 
as  they  approached.  Reaching  the  door 
they  confronted  the  Reverend  Hugh  Pier- 
son,  who  was  about  to  enter. 

"  Miss  Middleton !  "  he  exclaimed,  fall- 
ing back  in  his  astonishment,  then  he 
moved  quickly  toward  her.  "Allow  me 
to  take  your  place,  —  this  is  too  much  for 
you." 

"  No,  we  cannot  change  now ;  he  is  not 
able,"  she  answered,  earnestly  ;  "  but  you 
can  help  me  very  much  by  getting  me  two 
seats  for  these  men.  Turn  them  together 
so  that  they  can  put  their  feet  up,"  she 
called  after  him. 

Hugh  sprang  into  the  train.  It  was 
crowded,  but  at  the  magic  words,  "  Sick 
soldiers,"  he  was  offered  a  dozen  seats. 
Then  he  rushed  out  to  get  the  men  some 
beef  tea,  while  Lucy  with  difficulty  seated 
them  comfortably  in  their  places.  The 
conductor  shouted,  "All  aboard,"  but 
Lucy  delayed  a  moment  to  speak  to  some 
people  whom  she  knew,  and  the  train  was 
already  starting  as  she  sprang  to  the  plat- 
form. She  saw  the  Reverend  Hugh  wait- 


102  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

ing  for  her,  and  the  tall,  athletic  figure 
in  gray  tweeds,  the  strong,  magnetic  face, 
brought  back  with  sudden  vividness  the 
circumstances  of  their  first  meeting.  He 
saw  the  flash  of  recollection  cross  her  face, 
saw  her  take  upon  herself  the  cold  indif- 
ference of  a  woman  of  the  world,  and  with 
an  inward  shrug  prepared  to  face  the 
inevitable.  She  started  to  pass  him  with 
a  little  bow. 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  said,  "  but  where  are 
your  friends,  won't  you  allow  me  to  take 
you  to  them  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  but  it  will  not  be  neces- 
sary." 

"  I  think  it  will  be  necessary,"  he  per- 
sisted, "  unless  they  are  here  with  you  at 
the  station  ? " 

She  coloured,  and  looked  a  little  con- 
fused. 

"They  are  not  very  far  from  here,"  she 
answered,  hurriedly.  "  I  need  not  trouble 
you,  really,"  and,  without  giving  him  time 
to  protest,  she  slipped  past  him  and  went 
into  the  waiting-room.  Crossing  it,  she 
came  out  on  the  other  side,  and  looked 


THE  SECOND   LESSON  103 

around  anxiously  for  one  of  the  many 
stages  which  carried  passengers  to  the 
camp.  They  were  all  crowded  to  suffo- 
cation, and,  with  a  last  despairing  glance, 
she  decided  to  walk. 

Hugh  watched  her  for  a  few  moments, 
then  deliberately  started  out  to  overtake 
her.  When  he  had  done  so,  and  she  rec- 
ognised him,  she  turned  pale  with  anger. 

"Mr.  Pierson,"  she  said,  stopping  and 
standing  ankle  deep  in  the  white  dust,  "  I 
think  you  might  have  saved  me  this.  I 
do  not  want  you,  —  and  I  am  doing  my 
best  to  get  away  from  you." 

"  I  know  it,"  he  answered,  "  but  even 
then  I  will  not  leave  you  until  I  see  you 
safely  with  your  friends." 

"  Then  in  all  probability  we  shall  have 
to  spend  the  afternoon  together,  for  I  have 
lost  my  friends." 

Hugh's  face  fell.  "I  am  sorry,"  he 
said,  with  such  evident  pity  for  himself  as 
well  as  for  her  that  Lucy's  anger  reached 
the  boiling  point. 

They  walked  on  together  in  silence. 
The  rough,  hastily  made  road  stretched 


104  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

before  them  crowded  with  vehicles  of  all 
descriptions,  from  the  picturesque  army 
wagon,  with  its  long  train  of  mules  and 
shouting  darky  driver,  to  the  "  scorcher  " 
bent  double  on  his  wheel.  Squads  of 
soldiers,  infantry,  artillery,  engineers, 
passed  up  and  down  incessantly  ;  troopers 
strongly  outlined  against  the  sky  rode 
slowly  with  their  long  trains  of  horses  to 
water.  Orderlies  dashed  here  and  there  ; 
the  bugle,  now  near,  now  far,  echoed 
and  reechoed  musically,  while  over  all 
sifted  the  fine  white  dust  and  the  August 
sunshine  in  widespread,  generous  impar- 
tiality. Thousands  of  little  white  tents 
were  grouped  here,  there,  and  everywhere, 
looking  like  flocks  of  sea  birds  resting, 
and  one  could  hear  the  distant  booming 
of  the  surf,  —  ceaseless,  impersonal,  mys- 
terious as  eternity. 

"  Where  are  we  bound  ?  "  Hugh  asked 
at  length,  as  they  reached  the  summit  of 
the  plateau. 

"  /  am  going  to  the  general  hospital," 
Lucy  answered.  "  I  promised  to  write 
some  letters  for  one  or  two  of  the  men 


THE  SECOND  LESSON  105 

who  are  getting  better.  Poor  fellows ! 
they  have  been  ill  weeks  and  weeks,  and 
their  people  do  not  know  whether  they 
are  alive  or  dead."  She  stopped  with  a 
little  choking  cough. 

"  Have  you  been  here  much  ?  "  he  asked, 
gently. 

"  Almost  every  day.  I  have  been  go- 
ing to  the  regulars,  —  the  Eighth  and 
Thirteenth.  They  have  had  nothing,  lit- 
erally nothing,  and  —  "  she  stopped. 
"  The  surgeons  will  tell  you  all  you  may 
care  to  know.  Here  is  the  hospital.  I 
really  need  not  trouble  you  further." 

Hugh  bowed,  and  lifted  the  canvas  flap 
of  the  door  into  one  of  the  great  wards. 
He  watched  her  greet  the  nurses,  and 
then  move  slowly  from  cot  to  cot.  The 
men  seemed  to  know  her  well,  and  she 
had  a  word  and  a  smile  for  every  one. 
Then  Hugh  turned,  and  went  his  way, 
finding  plenty  for  his  own  willing  hands, 
plenty  to  wring  his  heart,  but,  through 
it  all,  like  a  subtle  undercurrent,  ran  his 
amazement  at  the  unexpected  develop- 
ment in  the  character  of  a  girl  whom  he 


106  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

had  heard  was  altogether  heartless  and 
without  sympathy. 

The  afternoon  waxed  and  waned,  visi- 
tors crowded  into  the  stages,  or  wandered 
disconsolately  down  the  road.  At  length 
Hugh  glanced  at  his  watch,  and  saw  that 
if  he  was  to  catch  the  last  train  he  must 
start  almost  immediately.  As  he  hur- 
ried from  the  main  hospital  through  one 
of  the  great  annexes,  he  caught  a  glimpse 
of  Lucy.  He  went  up  to  her  at  once. 

"  It  is  time  to  go,"  he  said,  quietly. 
"  If  you  will  get  your  things  together  and 
wait  for  me  at  the  door  I  will  try  and  get 
seats  in  one  of  the  stages." 

She  assented,  and  in  a  few  moments 
was  standing  outside  of  the  hospital  tent. 
He  was  longer  than  she  anticipated,  and, 
leaning  against  one  of  the  hitching-posts, 
she  realised  that  she  was  dead  tired,  and 
actually  glad  to  be  in  the  hands  of  her 
enemy.  After  what  seemed  to  her  an 
eternity  he  appeared. 

"  I  could  not  get  seats  anywhere,"  he 
called,  impatiently,  "  but  — 

"  Must  we  walk  back,  then  ? "  she  inter- 


THE  SECOND   LESSON  IO/ 

rupted,  trying  to  brace  herself  for  a  fresh 
effort. 

"No,  but  I'm  afraid  you'll  be  very  un- 
comfortable ;  I  persuaded  one  of  the 
mule  teams  to  wait  for  us  just  down  the 
road." 

"  For  what  place  shall  I  buy  your 
ticket  ? "  Hugh  asked,  as  he  helped  Miss 
Middleton  down  after  their  dusty  ride. 

"  I  have  it,  thanks,"  she  answered. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  he  questioned, 
in  a  tone  not  to  be  gainsaid. 

"To  Beverly,"  she  replied,  too  tired  to 
fence  further. 

He  looked  up  in  amusement. 

"Why,  so  am  I.  With  whom  are  you 
staying  ? " 

"With  the  Biglows." 

He  stared  at  her  for  a  moment,  then 
burst  into  a  great  boyish  laugh. 

"What  is  it  ?"  she  asked,  flushing. 

"  It  is  too  funny,"  he  replied,  recovering 
himself.  "You  will  be  so  disgusted  —  I 
really  hate  to  say  it,  but  /,  too,  am  going 
to  the  Biglows." 

He  made  an  effort  to  take  the  situation 


IO8  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

seriously,  especially  when  he  saw  how  his 
announcement  distressed  her. 

"They  did  not  speak  of  it,"  she  mur- 
mured, half  to  herself. 

"  No ;  I  usually  come  and  go  unques- 
tioned. It  is  almost  my  home.  But  I 
will  do  my  very  best  to  keep  out  of  your 
way,"  he  added,  earnestly.  "  You  know 
we  need  hardly  see  each  other,  certainly 
need  never  talk  to  each  other,  except  to 
say  good  morning,  or  good  night,  —  or 
shall  I  give  up  going  there  altogether  ? " 
A  maddening  little  smile  danced  in  his  eyes, 
and  tugged  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth. 

"  Certainly  not,"  she  answered,  indig- 
nantly. "How  can  you  imagine  that  your 
coming  or  going  could  possibly  affect  me ! 
If  you  will  be  good  enough  to  go  your 
way,  I  shall  go  mine." 

"  As  you  wish,"  he  retorted,  evenly. 

The  next  day  they  all  amused  themselves 
bathing  and  playing  golf.  The  girls  were 
deep  in  plans  for  an  Invitation  Tournament 
to  be  held  at  Longmere  in  about  ten  days. 

"  You  have  such  a  good  chance  for  it, 
Lucy,"  said  May,  as  they  were  seated  on 


THE  SECOND  LESSON  109 

the  piazza  after  dinner.  "Not  one  of 
those  girls  can  touch  you,  as  you  are 
playing  now." 

"I'll  do  my  best,"  said  Lucy,  with  a 
laugh,  «  but  if  I  have  anything  on  my  mind 
I  am  undone.  Unless  Mother  Biglow  will 
let  me  go  over  to  Montauk  and  finish  what 
I  have  begun,  I  know  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  hit  a  ball." 

"  Let  her  go,  mother,"  said  May.  "  She 
will  never  get  lost  again,  and  you  know 
Hugh  says  he  expects  to  be  there  half  the 
time,  and  he  can  look  after  her." 

"  Delighted,"  said  the  Reverend  Hugh, 
rising  to  the  occasion,  but  boiling  inwardly. 

Lucy  said  nothing.  She  thought  of 
giving  up  the  idea  of  going  altogether. 
A  little  later  Hugh  sauntered  over  to 
her. 

"Is  it  to  be  a  truce,  then,"  he  asked, 
"  while  the  Montauk  fever  lasts  ? "  She 
made  no  answer. 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  take  you  if  you 
will  consent  to  do  as  I  tell  you,"  he  con- 
tinued, calmly.  "  But  you  must  allow  me 
to  be  the  judge  of  where  you  are  to  be  left 


I  IO  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

for  the  day.  I  shall  have  my  own  work  to 
attend  to,  and  cannot  stay  with  you  all  the 
time.  If  this  arrangement  is  agreeable  we 
will  take  the  early  train  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." He  waited  a  moment.  Receiving 
no  reply,  he  went  back  to  his  comfortable 
lounging-chair. 

The  next  morning,  much  to  his  sur- 
prise, Lucy  appeared  at  early  breakfast. 
He  greeted  her  with  a  little  look  of 
mingled  respect  and  amusement. 

"Well,"  he  said,  teasingly,  "are  we  to 
talk  or  not  to  talk  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  she  answered,  sipping  her 
coffee,  "that  you  will  just  about  have 
time  to  read  your  morning  paper." 

"  But  the  paper  doesn't  arrive  so  early," 
he  protested,  in  comic  dismay. 

"Then  you  may  look  out  of  the  win- 
dow." 

In  this  way  the  ill-assorted  couple  pro- 
ceeded almost  daily  to  Montauk,  he  taking 
her  at  her  word,  always  buried  in  a  book  ; 
she,  although  obeyed  to  the  letter,  wish- 
ing with  feminine  inconsistency  that  the 
book  could  be  sent  to  Jericho.  In  what 


THE  SECOND  LESSON  III 

appeared  to  her  a  marvellous  manner,  he 
almost  always  divined  where  she  wished 
to  spend  her  day,  but,  after  taking  her 
there,  he  dropped  her  with  the  ease  and 
celerity  with  which  he  would  have  dropped 
an  inanimate  bundle.  What  most  sur- 
prised him  was  the  fact  that  she  always 
obeyed  him,  and  he  used  to  come  upon  her 
pretty  tired  figure  watching  patiently  in 
the  exact  spot  which  he  had  sternly  indi- 
cated in  the  morning.  But  once  home, 
her  docility  vanished,  and  she  showed 
her  dislike  and  antagonism  in  a  thousand 
subtle  little  ways  that  were  the  amuse- 
ment and  despair  of  the  Biglow  house- 
hold. 

Lucy's  devotion  to  "Her  Soldiers" 
lasted  almost  a  week,  then  pride  revolted 
and  Montauk  saw  her  no  more. 


ii 

The  day  after  Lucy's  desertion  the  girls 
went  over  to  Longmere  to  study  the 
course.  The  tournament  promised  to 
bring  together  all  the  best  players, 


112  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

and  every  one  felt  the  need  of  practice. 
Miss  Middleton  went  into  it  with  great 
enthusiasm. 

"  Our  Lucy  is  herself  again  !  "  said  May 
to  her  father,  with  a  mischievous  smile. 
"  I  must  confess  that  I  understand  her 
better  when  she  is  driving  golf  balls 
than  when  she  is  nursing  sick  soldiers 
and  accepting  snubs  from  a  parson." 

There  were  thirty  entries  for  the  quali- 
fying round,  the  first  eight  to  play  off  for 
championship,  the  second  eight  to  play  in 
a  consolation.  The  golf  committee  had 
decided  that  the  entire  eighteen  holes 
were  too  long  and  difficult  for  three 
days'  consecutive  play,  so  twelve  holes 
were  selected,  twenty-four  to  qualify,  and 
twenty-four  in  the  finals,  the  intermediate 
matches  to  be  twelve  holes  only. 

Lucy  was  playing  in  her  best  form 
and  finished  in  the  first  flight,  while  May 
qualified  for  the  consolation. 

The  drawings  after  the  preliminary 
rounds  promised  good  matches,  and  every 
one  was  in  a  high  state  of  excitement. 
On  the  second  day  Mr.  Biglow  brought 


THE  SECOND  LESSON  113 

the    Reverend    Hugh    over    to    see    the 
course. 

"We  should  be  able  to  get  in  a  round 
after  those  tiresome  girls  have  started ; 
they  are  the  greatest  nuisance  on  earth," 
he  grumbled,  trying  to  look  as  though  he 
meant  it. 

Both  May  and  Lucy  won  their  matches 
on  the  second  morning,  but  after  luncheon 
May  fell  by  the  wayside.  Lucy,  however, 
was  again  victorious,  although  the  rain  had 
come  down  in  sheets  and  surprises  were 
the  order  of  the  day.  She  was  surrounded 
by  crowds  offering  suggestions  and  con- 
gratulations. She  was  a  social  as  well 
as  golfing  success,  but  made  few  friends 
and  many  enemies.  She  went  her  way 
lightly,  almost  insolently,  winning  whom 
she  chose,  and  passing  over  the  rest  with 
careless  indifference. 

"  The  woman  you  are  going  to  play  with 
to-morrow  is  a  cat,  a  perfect  cat,"  said  a 
popular  ex-champion,  vindictively.  "She 
only  won  by  an  accident  this  afternoon,  — 
it  was  the  weather,  of  course,  and  ever 
since  the  earth  has  been  too  small  to  hold 


114  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

her.  There  is  nothing  she  won't  do,  abso- 
lutely nothing,  my  dear,  so  keep  your  eyes 
open,  and  look  out  for  tricks." 

About  half -past  five  they  all  gathered  in 
groups  around  the  great  open  fire.  Mr. 
Biglow  and  the  Reverend  Hugh  were 
seated  with  May  and  Miss  Middleton. 
It  was  a  very  jolly  crowd,  and  Lucy  was 
in  the  wildest  spirits.  Her  cheeks  burned 
with  feverish  colour  and  she  flirted  outra- 
geously with  half  a  dozen  college  men 
who  hung  around  her.  Her  one  object 
in  life  seemed  to  be  to  scandalise  the  Rev- 
erend Hugh,  and  May  watched  her  out 
of  the  corners  of  her  eyes  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"  Why,  who  is  that  ?  "  Lucy  exclaimed 
at  the  top  of  her  voice,  as  a  magnificent 
looking  fellow  opened  the  door  and  shook 
off  the  rain  from  his  great  coat.  "  Do 
you  know  him,  Mr.  Borman  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  him  well.  It's  Rob- 
bins,  the  stroke  of  the  Yale  crew." 

"Then  go  and  bring  him  over  at  once" 
cried  Lucy,  "  I  simply  must  have  him,  I 
can't  live  without  him  another  minute." 


THE  SECOND  LESSON  115 

Hugh  rose  and  May  sent  him  a  little 
imploring  glance. 

"  I'll  be  around  when  you  want  me," 
he  said,  and  turned  toward  the  smoking 
room. 

"  Miss  Middleton  seems  to  be  quite  in 
the  air,  —  a  little  entette"  said  one  of  the 
older  women,  with  a  disagreeable  smile. 

When  Lucy  and  her  opponent,  Mrs. 
Connors,  started  out  to  play  their  match 
the  next  morning,  the  course  had  dried 
up  considerably,  but  the  weather  was  still 
cloudy.  There  was  a  large  gallery,  and 
general  expectation  was  in  Lucy's  favour. 
Every  one  seemed  to  detest  Mrs.  Connors, 
who  was  ultra  sporty,  and  had  a  nasty 
little  way  of  saying  both  truths  and  un- 
truths. She  knew  every  one  was  against 
her,  but  it  had  absolutely  no  effect  upon 
her  nerve,  and,  winning  the  toss,  she  drove 
a  superb  ball  far  beyond  the  first  bunker. 
It  was  a  discouraging  start  for  Lucy,  but 
she  seemed  cool  and  collected,  and  put  a 
ball  almost  as  far.  May  was  carrying, 
and  the  girls  made  a  pretty  picture  as 
they  started  down  the  course  together. 


Il6  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

At  the  end  of  the  sixth  hole,  every  one 
saw  it  was  to  be  a  pitched  battle.  The 
seventh  hole  punished  a  bad  drive  merci- 
lessly, but  the  hazard  once  carried,  it 
could  be  done  in  a  low  figure.  Lucy 
approached  the  tee  with  fear  and  trem- 
bling, as  she  had  missed  her  drive  there 
several  times,  and  felt  it  to  be  her  "  hoo- 
doo." She  cleared  the  hazard  beautifully, 
however,  and  gave  a  great  sigh  of  relief. 
Mrs.  Connors  was  well  over,  and  made 
a  pretty  second  shot,  playing  the  odd. 
Lucy  played  the  like,  and  for  some  un- 
known reason  made  a  "flub-dub"  —then 
on  the  odd  she  made  a  fine  iron  and 
gained  about  seventy  yards.  Mrs.  Con- 
nors playing  the  like  tried  a  long  ap- 
proach, but  fell  short,  while  Lucy  playing 
the  odd  landed  about  a  yard  and  a  half 
from  the  hole.  Mrs.  Connors  playing  the 
like  again,  approached  short,  and  on  the 
odd  put  dead.  Lucy  looked  at  her  in  sur- 
prise, then,  taking  a  careful  line,  holed  out. 
"Your  greens  are  simply  delicious,  one 
can't  help  going  in,"  she  said.  "Five  — 
six,  I  believe." 


THE  SECOND  LESSON  \\J 

"  Six  all,  you  mean,"  said  Mrs.  Connors, 
stopping  short. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  I  meant  five  — 
six." 

"  I  don't  see  it,  Miss  Middleton,"  said 
Mrs.  Connors,  shortly. 

"Then  I'll  explain  it,"  replied  Lucy. 
"  I  drove  the  hazard,  didn't  I  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  Playing  two  I  missed ;  three  was  a 
good  cleek  shot,  four  was  an  approach, 
and  on  five  I  holed  out." 

Mrs.  Connors  looked  unconvinced. 

"  I  think  you  have  failed  to  count  one 
stroke,"  she  said,  decidedly. 

"  You  are  allowing  for  two  on  the 
green,"  replied  Lucy,  keeping  her  temper, 
"  but  if  you  remember  I  made  a  lucky  put, 
and  went  in.  I  can  see  how  you  might 
have  miscounted." 

"We  will  refer  it  to  the  golf  commit- 
tee, since  it  seems  to  be  your  word  against 
mine,"  said  Mrs.  Connors,  coolly. 

They  walked  to  the  next  tee  in  si- 
lence, the  gallery  following.  Just  as 
Lucy  was  about  to  drive,  Mrs.  Connors 


Il8  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

turned  to  a  young  woman  standing  near- 
by. 

"  Will  you  act  as  scorer  ? "  she  asked, 
handing  her  the  card  and  pencil.  "  Shall 
you  mind,  Miss  Middleton  ?  It  will  be  so 
much  more  satisfactory." 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad,  if  you  wish  it," 
she  answered,  quietly. 

Although  inwardly  furious,  Lucy  kept 
her  nerve,  playing  on  steadily,  and,  at 
the  end  of  the  morning  round,  was  one 
up,  not  counting  the  disputed  hole. 

Upon  reaching  the  house,  Mrs.  Connors 
entered  her  protest,  and  the  club  was 
soon  buzzing  with  comments  and  specula- 
tions. 

"This  is  the  result  of  trying  to  make 
a  tournament  a  social  affair,"  said  the 
chairman  of  the  committee,  disgustedly. 
"  A  match  is  a  match,  and  should  have  an 
official  scorer  every  time.  No  other  way 
is  fair." 

"  But  women  don't  usually  play  that 
way,"  said  one  of  the  men,  in  an  injured 
voice. 

"  I  know  they  don't,  but  it's  the  unex- 


THE  SECOND  LESSON  119 

pected  that  always  happens,  especially  with 
Mrs.  Connors  in  the  case." 

May  was  bitterly  indignant,  as  she  had 
counted  Lucy's  score,  but,  acting  as  caddie, 
had  been  unable  to  make  any  statement 
that  Mrs.  Connors  would  accept.  Lucy 
only  laughed,  and  said  she  did  not  care. 
Just  as  they  were  all  going  in  to  luncheon, 
she  turned  back  to  speak  to  Mr.  Biglow, 
and  saw  the  Reverend  Hugh  standing 
silent  among  a  group  of  men,  who  were 
evidently  discussing  the  occurrence  of  the 
morning.  Their  eyes  met,  holding  each 
other  for  an  instant,  and  Lucy  saw  that 
he  doubted  her.  She  coloured  crimson, 
then  turned  and  hastily  entered  the 
dining-room. 

"  Of  course  he  doubts  me,  how  can  he 
help  it  ? "  she  kept  saying  to  herself.  Just 
before  starting  on  the  final  round,  she 
happened  to  see  him  standing  alone  in 
the  outer  room,  looking  for  a  match  to 
light  his  pipe.  She  went  up  to  him.  "  Do 
you  believe  I  did  this  thing  ? "  she  asked, 
passionately. 

He  looked  long  into  her  eyes,  and  in  his 


120  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

heart  he  believed  in  her,  but  on  a  sudden 
impulse  he  felt  himself  harden,  and  his 
face  grew  cold. 

"  Have  you  stated  officially  that  your 
score  was  five  ? " 

"Of  course." 

"  Then  there  is  nothing  more  to  be 
said ;  one  never  questions  a  woman's 
word." 

She  stood  quite  still  a  moment,  then, 
without  a  word,  turned  and  walked  away. 

"What  a  brute  I  am!"  he  said,  sav- 
agely, as  he  watched  her  pass  out  of  sight. 

Lucy  played  the  first  three  or  four  holes 
in  a  dream.  She  drove,  brasseyed,  putted 
mechanically,  her  game  like  some  well- 
ordered  piece  of  mechanism  going  by  it- 
self for  awhile,  then,  without  warning,  and 
for  no  apparent  reason,  she  went  com- 
pletely to  pieces.  May,  suffering  agonies, 
saw  her  lose  hole  after  hole. 

"For  heaven's  sake,  pull  yourself  to- 
gether, my  girl,"  whispered  Mr.  Biglow, 
as  they  finished  the  seventeenth  hole. 

Lucy  struggled,  but  at  the  eighteenth 
Mrs.  Connors  was  dormie  five,  and  at  the 


THE  SECOND   LESSON  121 

nineteenth  the  match  was  hers,  with  a 
score  of  six  up  and  five  to  play. 

As  they  shook  hands,  Mrs.  Connors 
looked  Lucy  over  critically. 

"  I'm  sorry  you  lost  your  nerve,"  she 
said,  in  her  queer,  blunt  way.  "  You  didn't 
play  your  game,  you  know.  I'm  afraid  my 
protest  rattled  you,  although  at  first  I 
didn't  think  you  were  that  sort.  No  hard 
feelings,  I  hope,"  and,  with  a  little  bow, 
she  made  her  way  back  to  the  club- 
house. 

Lucy  listened  wearily  to  her  friends' 
lamentations. 

"  We  counted  on  you,"  said  the  chair- 
man of  the  committee,  almost  with  tears 
in  his  eyes. 

That  same  evening  they  all  went  back 
to  Beverly.  The  Reverend  Hugh  was 
wretched  when  he  learned  the  result  of 
the  match,  —  a  hundred  times  more 
wretched  than  Lucy,  who  seemed  too 
tired  to  even  feel.  She  remained  in  her 
room  all  the  next  day. 

"  I  must  see  her,"  he  thought  to  him- 
self. "Who  would  have  dreamed  that 


122  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

I  could  hurt  her  so.  After  I  see  her  I 
must  go,  for  it  would  only  be  cross  pur- 
poses to  the  end  of  the  chapter."  To 
Hugh's  relief,  Lucy  appeared  at  dinner, 
and  as  they  rose  from  the  table  he  joined 
her. 

"Will  you  give  me  a  few  moments, 
Miss  Middleton  ? "  he  asked,  hesitatingly. 
"We  might  stroll  up  the  road  a  little 
way." 

She  assented  listlessly. 

Their  way  led  inland,  and  before  them 
the  road  wound  lazily,  stretching  out  into 
the  dusk,  —  distinct,  yet  indistinct.  A 
cloud  floated  across  the  wide  horizon,  and 
the  evening  star  gleamed  faintly. 

At  last,  with  an  effort,  Hugh  broke  the 
silence. 

"  I  owe  you  an  apology,  Miss  Middle- 
ton,  and  I  asked  you  to  walk  with  me  so 
that  I  might  tell  you  how  bitterly  I  repent 
the  way  in  which  I  answered  your  ques- 
tion yesterday.  I  can  never  forgive  my- 
self." 

"You  only  acted  according  to  your 
lights,"  she  said,  wearily,  after  a  little 


THE   SECOND  LESSON  123 

pause.  "  You  were  logical,  —  that  was 
all." 

"  But  I  did  not  doubt  you,"  he  said, 
earnestly.  "As  I  looked  at  you  I  be- 
lieved in  you  absolutely." 

"Then  why  —  why  —  ?"  she  began. 

"  I  don't  know  why,"  he  interrupted. 

She  stopped,  and  leaned  against  an  old 
broken  fence  rail. 

"  For  a  long  time,"  she  began,  at  length, 
"  I  have  wanted  to  tell  you  that  —  that  — 
what  I  did  the  day  we  played  together 
seems  like  a  nightmare.  I  feel  as  though 
some  morning  I  must  wake,  and  find  it 
only  a  dream.  My  standards  have  not 
been  high,  I  know,  but  I  had  never  been 
guilty  of  such  a  thing  in  all  my  life  before. 
I  seem  to  have  waited  until  I  found  — 
you." 

He  started,  then  looked  away.  "  I  was 
too  hard  on  you,"  he  said,  "  I  should  have 
let  it  pass." 

"No,"  she  answered;  "you  were  quite 
right." 

He  made  an  impatient  gesture  of  dis- 
sent. 


124  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

"  You  did  not  approve  of  me,  did  not 
even  admire  me,  and  although  at  first  I 
hated  you,  I  could  not  forget  what  you 
said,  and  then  I  began  to  see  my  mistake, 
- 1  began  to  see  that  —  that  we  might 
have  been  good  friends." 

There  was  a  long  silence ;  then  she 
looked  up  impulsively  into  his  face. 

"  Is  it  too  late  ?  " 

"It  is  too  late,"  he  answered,  coldly. 
He  looked  at  her  as  he  spoke,  and  saw 
her  face  grow  pale.  Then  he  bent  and 
kissed  her,  passionately,  lingeringly. 

She  stood  quite  still  for  a  moment,  then 
broke  into  wild  sobbing. 

"Forgive  me,"  he  said,  huskily,  "I  for- 
got myself.  Don't  be  so  sorry  —  dear." 

He  took  her  hand,  and  held  it  in  both 
his  own. 

"Oh,  I  cannot  bear  it!"  she  cried, 
struggling  with  her  tears. 

"  I  see  how  impossible  it  would  be,"  he 
went  on,  gently.  "  I  am  poor.  I  have 
nothing  to  offer  any  girl  but  the  devotion 
of  my  life.  A  small  thing  in  itself,  per- 
haps, but  much  to  me.  It  would  mean 


THE  SECOND   LESSON  12$ 

very  little  to  a  woman  of  your  world,  liv- 
ing and  caring  only  for  social  excitement 
or  success.  It  would  be  cruel  to  change 
a  woman's  whole  life  for  a  moment's  weak- 
ness,—  a  passing  mood.  The  risk  would 
be  too  great,  the  chances  of  unhappiness 
too  awful." 

"  But  if  it  were  no  mood,"  she  said  in 
a  low  voice,  "  if  it  were  the  truest  feeling 
that  could  touch  a  woman's  heart  ?  " 

Hugh  sighed. 

"  She  might  believe  it  to  be  all  that, 
but  it  would  only  be  a  dream,  and  very 
soon  would  come  the  awakening.  There 
would  be  so  many  sacrifices,  —  the  habits 
of  a  whole  lifetime  to  unlearn." 

"You  are  very  one-sided,"  she  said, 
bitterly,  —  "very  blind.  The  women  of 
what  you  call  our  world  are  not  all  shallow, 
not  all  butterflies.  Some  of  us  get  tired 
of  the  whirl,  the  sham,  the  emptiness  of  it 
all.  Some  of  us  might  even  be  capable  of 
loving,  for  love's  sake.  Oh,  I  know,"  she 
went  on,  as  he  started  to  speak,  "  I  under- 
stand what  you  would  say,  —  you  have 
your  vocation,  your  life  to  live,  and  you 


126  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

must  live  it  well.     You  are  strong,  but 
j " 

Her  face  was  stained  with  tears,  her 
pride  for  ever  humbled.  She  looked  like 
some  poor  wounded  bird  trailing  its  broken 
wings  through  the  dust.  A  great  wave  of 
love  and  chivalry  swept  over  him.  He 
moved  quickly  toward  her  and  held  out 
his  hands. 

"  Come !  "  he  said. 


ONE  OFF  TWO 


VI 

ONE  OFF  TWO 

THE  heart  of  the  clerk  of  the  weather 
was  soft  within  him,  and  Saturday 
afternoon  was  deliciously  cool.  The  breeze 
caught  the  broad  water  of  the  river  and 
crumpled  it  into  a  thousand  little  glittering 
waves.  The  links  stretched  on  and  on 
toward  the  horizon  line,  smooth,  undulat- 
ing, green,  and  soft  as  velvet. 

Arnold  and  Peters  were  playing  for  the 
biggest  cup  of  the  season,  and,  as  they 
were  well  matched,  club  opinion  was  pretty 
evenly  divided  on  the  outcome.  Old  Gen- 
eral Sanderson,  who  hated  Arnold,  was  wait- 
ing around  to  follow,  and  Jackie  Thomas, 
the  happy-go-lucky  of  the  club,  who  had 
had  a  bicycle  spill  that  morning,  appeared 
with  his  hand  done  up  in  many  bandages, 
129 


130  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

and  was  working  the  old  gentleman  into  a 
frenzy  by  belittling  Peters's  chances. 

"You  see,  Arnold  is  such  a  cool  cus- 
tomer," Jackie  asserted,  "and  he's  used  to 
competition.  He  never  plays  up  to  his 
game  until  the  odds  are  against  him,  then 
look  out  for  him ;  that's  all  I  have  to  say." 

"That's  all  right,"  snapped  the  general, 
testily,  "but  Peters  plays  the  most  bril- 
liant game  in  this  club.  Arnold  is  unsteady. 
Why,  I  beat  him  six  down  myself  only  the 
other  day." 

"  So  I've  heard  before,"  said  Jackie,  with 
a  bored  air.  The  General  looked  daggers 
and  retired. 

"  What's  his  grudge  against  Tom  ? " 
inquired  a  man  who  had  been  standing 
near  by. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  he's  run 
up  against  some  of  Tom's  home  truths. 
They're  not  sugar-coated." 

The  men  had  taken  an  early  luncheon, 
and  had  almost  a  clear  course.  There 
was  a  big  gallery,  with  a  large  sprinkling 
of  girls  in  the  crowd,  making  pretty  high 
lights  in  their  white  dresses  and  fluttering 


ONE   OFF  TWO  131 

ribbons.  Jackie  was  supposed  to  be  scor- 
ing, but  he  managed  to  carry  on  several 
complicated  flirtations,  and  seemed  in  his 
element. 

Both  Arnold  and  Peters  were  on  their 
mettle,  and  Peters  started  brilliantly,  win- 
ning three  straight  holes.  Arnold  soon 
got  into  his  swing,  and  pulled  the  score 
down  to  even  all  at  the  seventh  hole. 
Peters  won  the  eighth,  and  the  General, 
who  was  very  fat,  began  to  get  red  and 
fussy  between  the  effects  of  heat  and 
excitement. 

"  One  up,"  said  Peters,  looking  at  his 
card,  "  and  by  Jove !  Tom,  if  you  do  this 
hole  in  five,  you'll  go  out  in  forty-three. 
It's  a  good  thing  for  me  that  this  isn't 
medal  play,  for  that  nine  would  have  fixed 
me." 

"  Forty-three,"  cried  Arnold,  stopping 
in  astonishment.  "  You  must  be  mis- 
taken. That's  as  good  as  I've  ever  done, 
and  I'm  not  up  to  my  game." 

"  Here  it  is  in  black  and  white.  The 
first  in  five,  the  second  in  five,  the  third  in 
five,  the  fourth  in  three,  the  fifth  in  six,  — 


132  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

that's  good  for  that  hole,  —  the  sixth  in  four, 
the  seventh  in  four,  the  eighth  in  six,  mak- 
ing thirty-eight  for  eight  holes,  with  two 
sixes.  Well,  you  may  not  think  you're 
up  to  your  game,  but  it's  good  going." 

"  Here's  two  to  one  that  he  doesn't  do 
it  in  five,"  said  the  General,  cheerfully. 

"  Done,"  said  Jackie. 

"  What  an  old  wretch  that  General  is  !  " 
said  pretty  May  Biglow,  to  a  man  saunter- 
ing beside  her.  "  He  ought  to  be  put  off 
the  course." 

"  He  wouldn't  understand  the  reason  if 
they  did  put  him  off,"  said  her  companion, 
with  a  smile. 

Arnold's  lips  closed  firmly.  Jackie  knew 
that  look,  and  felt  placidly  sure  of  his 
balls. 

It  was  Arnold's  honour,  and,  standing 
on  the  tee,  he  put  down  his  ball,  and  took 
a  trial  swing.  Tall,  broad-shouldered, 
purposeful,  he  stood  strongly  silhouetted 
against  the  sky. 

"  How  attractive  he  looks,"  said  May 
Biglow.  "  I  wonder  if  he's  as  interesting 
as  he  seems,  or  only  like  all  the  rest." 


ONE   OFF   TWO  133 

"Only  like  all  the  rest,"  answered  her 
companion,  quietly. 

Peters  looked  at  Tom  with  an  expression 
of  affection  in  his  clear  brown  eyes.  He 
himself  was  playing  for  all  he  was  worth, 
but  he  was  a  man  who  could  see  something 
outside  of  his  game.  He  could  enjoy  the 
trees  and  the  sky,  could  be  really  very 
companionable  when  he  was  making  a 
good  score,  and  if,  as  sometimes  hap- 
pened, he  played  badly,  he  seemed  to 
wrap  himself  in  a  mantle  of  good-natured 
philosophy. 

"  I  wish  I  knew  them  better,"  sighed 
a  young  married  woman,  impatiently,  "  but 
they're  so  impregnable  !  " 

"  They  don't  altogether  appreciate 
us,"  answered  May  Biglow,  reflectively. 
"They've  both  been  through  the  mill." 

Arnold  drove  a  long  ball  and  landed  well 
on  the  other*  side  of  the  road.  Peters  drove, 
and  pulled  a  little  into  the  long  grass,  but 
was  well  out  with  his  mashie,  and  up  on 
the  rise  of  the  hill  in  two.  Arnold  took  a 
brassey,  and  put  a  good  ball  just  this  side 
of  the  road.  Peters  made  a  beautiful  iron, 


134  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

and  landed  dead  on  the  green.  Arnold 
playing  the  like,  approached,  but  sclaffed, 
and  landed  a  trifle  beyond  the  edge  of  the 
green.  It  was  his  turn,  playing  the  odd. 

"  You've  won  your  balls,  but  it's  Pete's 
hole,"  said  the  General  to  Jackie,  in  an 
audible  voice,  as  Arnold  studied  his  put. 

Arnold  looked  at  Peters  and  smiled. 
"  Here's  for  a  try,"  and  getting  well  down 
to  it,  he  putted  for  the  hole.  The  ball 
ran  true,  then,  rimming  the  cup  a  little,  it 
gave  a  lurch  and  dropped  in. 

Peters  holed  out  and  they  halved  in 
four. 

The  General  slapped  his  knee  and  swore 
softly.  "  It  was  pure  robbery,"  he  said, 
disgustedly,  thinking  of  his  Silvertowns. 

By  this  time  both  men  were  getting 
well  warmed  up  to  their  work.  They 
halved  frequently,  and,  try  as  he  would, 
neither  could  get  more  than  one  up  on 
the  other.  Peters  held  Arnold  well,  and 
played  at  times  brilliantly,  although  Arnold 
was  steady  and  his  score  consistently  low. 
As  they  holed  out  on  the  seventeenth 
green,  the  strain  began  to  tell  a  little  on 


ONE    OFF  TWO  135 

the  nerves  of  both  men,  as  the  card  again 
showed  even  all,  and  one  to  go.  Quite 
a  number  of  men  had  heard  of  the  close- 
ness of  the  match  from  the  caddies,  and 
were  waiting  to  join  the  gallery  at  the 
home  tee.  A  group  of  people  from  the 
club-house  sauntered  up  to  see  the  finish, 
while  two  women  hung  eagerly  over  the 
piazza  railing  of  the  little  house  on  the 
left.  Aside  from  the  General's  voice, 
which  could  be  heard  offering  bets  to  the 
newcomers,  it  was  as  silent  as  the  grave. 

"  I  wish  they'd  play  golf  more  jocosely," 
said  a  poor  unenlightened  duffer. 

"  Oh,  keep  quiet,"  said  Jackie,  glaring 
at  him  savagely. 

It  was  Peters's  honour,  and,  with  a 
magnificent  swing,  he  sent  the  ball  well 
away.  The  gallery,  leaning  forward,  with 
hands  up  to  shade  their  eyes,  thought  that 
it  would  never  stop.  Arnold  teed  his  ball 
with  the  do  or  die  look  Jackie  knew  so 
well.  Pulling  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  he 
took  a  firm  stance,  and  was  just  past 
the  top  of  his  swing  when  a  little  flying 
figure  shot  across  the  course  directly  in 


136  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

front  of  him,  and  stopping  suddenly,  cried, 
in  a  childish  treble  : 

"  Helloo,  Tom  !  Bee's  dot  a  flower  for 
'oo !" 

Pale  as  death,  Arnold  wavered,  then 
swung  to  the  left  with  all  his  strength, 
and  the  ball,  going  with  the  force  of  a 
bullet,  crashed  through  the  window  of 
the  house  on  the  left,  and  landed  in  the 
centre  of  Mrs.  Alden's  cesthetic  little 
drawing-room. 

There  was  a  cry  of  horror  from  the 
women  in  the  gallery,  and  some  made 
an  involuntary  rush  for  Bee,  who  stood 
at  Arnold's  feet,  a  quaint,  small  figure 
in  green,  with  the  fatal  flower  in  one 
little  hand. 

The  colour  rushed  suddenly  back  into 
Arnold's  face.  He  caught  the  child  in 
his  arms,  holding  her  closely,  and  kissed 
her ;  then,  seeing  her  surprise  and  alarm 
at  his  emotion,  he  put  her  quickly  down, 
and  addressed  her  with  quaint  formality. 

"Thank  you  very  much,  Honey  Bee. 
Your  flower  is  very  beautiful.  As  I  have 
no  coat  now,  I'll  put  it  in  my  hat.  So  — 


ONE  OFF  TWO  137 

suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  "and  when 
I  go  to  dinner  to-night,  IT1  put  it  in  my 
buttonhole." 

Bee  continued  to  regard  him  gravely, 

"Don't  you  think  you'd  better  run  back 
to  Nurse  now?"  suggested  May  Biglow, 
and  the  little  figure  flew  off  obediently. 

Arnold  turned  to  Peters. 

"The  cup  is  yours,  Pete.  It  was  a  good 
match,  and  since  Fate  decreed  that  I  should 
lose,  I'm  glad  it  goes  to  you,"  and  the  two 
men  shook  hands,  looking  hard  into  each 
other's  eyes. 

"Beastly  luck!"  murmured  Jackie, 
mournfully. 

"That  was  a  dose  'call,'"  said  the 
General,  mopping  his  brow,  and  looking 
a  trifle  subdued.  "Who  is  the  child, 
anyway  ? " 

"  Little  Bee  Pelham,  a  daughter  of  one 
of  his  classmates.  They  are  great  chums, 
and  she  has  a  funny  little  way  of  giving 
him  a  flower  every  time  she  sees  him." 

"She  came  near  giving  him  her  last 
one,"  said  Peters.  "  I  say,  Arnold,  don't 
you  think  we'd  better  go  over  to  the 


138  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

house  and  see  how  much  damage  we  have 
done  ? " 

"I'll  go,  too,"  said  Jackie.  "I  think 
I  see  a  new  girl  with  Mrs.  Alden.  By 
Jove ! "  he  cried,  as  they  drew  nearer, 
"  if  it  isn't  Helen  Thornton  herself !  " 


ii 

Mrs.  Alden  was  still  a  handsome  woman, 
and  looked  a  gracious  figure  as  she  rose 
and  moved  forward  to  greet  the  newcomers. 
Standing  on  the  lower  step  of  the  veranda, 
Arnold  offered  his  humblest  apologies, 
while  Jackie  unceremoniously  passed  them 
and  joined  Miss  Thornton,  who  was  seated 
in  the  background. 

"  I  hope  you'll  allow  me  to  send  a  man 
up  at  once,"  Tom  was  saying.  "  I  can 
never  quite  forgive  my  clumsiness,  and  — 

"  I  won't  hear  another  word  about  it," 
interrupted  Mrs.  Alden,  "  and  as  for  your 
sending  a  man,  I  will  not  allow  it.  I  offer 
my  window  quite  cheerfully  as  a  sacrifice 
to  the  gods,  since  dear  little  Bee  is  safe. 
How  tired  you  all  look  !  Now  that  you're 


ONE   OFF  TWO  139 

here,  you  must  stay  and  have  tea  with 
me." 

The  men  suddenly  became  conscious 
that  their  collars  were  reposing  peacefully 
in  their  lockers,  while  green  stains  and 
brown  smudges  ornamented  their  once 
white  trowsers.  Only  Jackie  was  re- 
splendent in  dazzling  ducks  and  immacu- 
late stock,  while  the  pattern  of  his  shirt 
might  "  have  caused  an  echo,"  as  the  Gen- 
eral put  it. 

"  Really,  Mrs.  Alden,"  said  Peters,  with 
a  flush  of  embarrassment,  "I'm  afraid 
we  don't  look  very  fit.  If  you'll  excuse 
us—" 

"But  I  won't  excuse  you.  Don't  you 
suppose  I've  ever  seen  a  man  without  his 
collar  before?  Besides,  you  both  neglect 
me  so  atrociously  that  I  may  never  be  able 
to  catch  you  again.  I  want  to  introduce 
you  to  my  guest,  Miss  Thornton.  Helen, 
let  me  present  Mr.  Peters  —  Mr.  Arnold ; 
Jackie,  will  you  ring  for  tea  ? "  The  men 
made  the  best  of  the  situation,  and  Arnold 
sauntered  over  to  where  Miss  Thornton 
was  sitting. 


140  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

"  I  hear  that  you  are  a  great  golfer,"  he 
said,  seating  himself. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  answered,  with  a  little 
laugh,  "  only  an  aspiring  one.  I'm  in  love 
with  your  links,  but  I  can't  play  them. 
Yet  I  wouldn't  have  them  different  for 
anything  in  the  world." 

"All  you  want  is  good  coaching,"  said 
Jackie.  "You'd  better  let  me  take  you 
over  the  course  and  show  you  how  to  play 
each  hole." 

"But  you  can't  use  your  hand,"  with  a 
mischievous  look  into  his  eyes,  "and  I 
knotv  you  won't  want  to  simply  walk." 

"Just  watch  me  !  Haven't  I  faithfully 
followed  these  two  duffers  all  this  lovely 
afternoon,  and  what  is  my  reward  ?  I'm 
short  two  dozen  balls  and  four  dinners, 
and  this  is  only  the  fifteenth !  My  man 
beaten  !  my  bets  lost !  " 

Meanwhile  tea  had  arrived,  and  Arnold, 
leaning  back,  looked  at  Miss  Thornton 
with  interest.  She  had  a  sweet,  low  voice 
and  a  subtle  charm  of  changing  expression, 
and  Jackie  hung  on  her  every  word.  Her 
Northern  fairness  and  marked  Southern 


ONE    OFF   TWO  141 

accent  gave  a  delightfully  piquant  sense 
of  contrast. 

"  Have  you  heard  of  Sally  Adams's  en- 
gagement?" said  Mrs.  Alden ;  "it's  the 
sensation  of  the  hour." 

"Yes,  that  was  a  rapid  thing,"  laughed 
Peters,  helping  himself  to  tea-cakes  ;  "  they 
met  each  other  just  about  six  weeks  ago. 
Love  at  first  sight,  they  both  say." 

"  What  folly !  "  exclaimed  Arnold,  impa- 
tiently. "  What  can  she  know  of  him,  or 
he  of  her,  in  six  weeks  ? " 

"  You  evidently  don't  believe  in  love  at 
first  sight,"  remarked  Mrs.  Alden,  looking 
at  him  curiously.  "  What  do  you  believe 
in  ? " 

"  He  doesn't  believe  in  anything,"  inter- 
rupted Jackie.  "  He's  a  regular  pagan. 
He  isn't  human,  really,  Mrs.  Alden." 

"  Be  quiet,  Jackie,  I  want  to  hear  what 
Mr.  Arnold  really  does  think.  He  looked 
rather  communicative  for  half  a  minute." 

"I  think,"  began  Arnold,  slowly,  "that 
I  haven't  much  faith  in  the  soul-consum- 
ing passion  people  talk  about.  No  real 
feeling  can  last  unless  there  is  some  solid 


142  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

foundation  for  it  to  rest  upon,  and  I 
couldn't  get  to  the  foundation  in  six  weeks. 
At  least,  I  hope  not !  " 

"Hear  the  baby  talk,"  said  Peters. 
"  You'd  never  think  he'd  lived  thirty-three 
years  in  this  mocking  old  world.  Why, 
man,  love  can  exist  where  there  is  nothing 
to  the  eye  of  the  sane  human  being,  — 
neither  beauty  nor  cleverness,  nor  anything 
else,  while  sometimes  the  most  ideal  char- 
acters go  through  life  without  inspiring  it. 
Love  is  like  life,  —  you  can't  explain  one 
or  the  other,  can  you,  Jackie  ?" 

"  What  you  say  may  be  true,  but,  never- 
theless, I  still  cling  to  my  theory ;  though 
I  may  be  speaking  from  too  personal  a 
standpoint.  What  do  you  think  ? "  and 
Arnold  turned  suddenly  to  Miss  Thornton. 

"  I  ?     Oh,  I  think  love  is  a  flame  !  " 

"You  bet  it  is,"  said  Jackie,  "several 
flames.  They  just  burn  till  there's  noth- 
ing left  of  you.  I  know,"  with  an  adoring 
look  at  Miss  Thornton. 

Every  one  laughed  and  the  men  rose 
to  go. 

"  We  shall  hope  to   see  something  of 


ONE   OFF   TWO  143 

you,  now  that  Miss  Thornton  is  here," 
said  Mrs.  Alden.  "  I  don't  include  you," 
turning  to  Jackie,  "  because  I'm  sure  you'll 
live  here  anyway,  no  matter  what  I  say. 
Do  go,  you  foolish  boy,"  as  Jackie  auda- 
ciously stooped  and  kissed  her.  "  I'm  too 
old  to  be  hoodwinked  by  sugar-plums." 

in 

About  a  month  later  Arnold  suddenly 
became  conscious  that  he  was  seeing  a 
great  deal  of  the  Aldens,  and  inciden- 
tally of  Miss  Thornton.  They  had  spent 
days  on  the  links  together  and  hours  out 
on  the  river.  He  wondered  if  his  in- 
timacy there  was  due  to  clever  manage- 
ment on  Mrs.  Alden' s  part,  or  to  his  own 
inclinations.  He  reflected  that  he  had 
never  been  managed  into  going  where  he 
did  not  wish  to  go  before,  so  he  came  to 
the  conclusion  that,  if  Mrs.  Alden  had 
offered  opportunities,  he,  on  his  part,  had 
been  willing  enough  to  make  use  of  them. 
He  knew  that  all  the  women  in  the  club 
were  in  ecstasies  over  what  they  called 


144  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

his  sudden  capture.  They  even  forgave 
"  Her"  for  being  pretty  and  not  of  them. 
He  wondered  vaguely  if  he  had  come  so 
quickly  to  that  place  where  he  must  de- 
cide once  for  all  whether  to  go  forward  or 
backward.  He  thought  he  was  not  able 
to  decide  either  one  way  or  the  other. 
He  was  sitting  alone  on  the  club  piazza, 
in  the  late  afternoon  sunshine,  his  chair 
tipped  back,  his  feet  on  the  railing,  and 
his  hat  down  over  his  eyes.  From  where 
he  sat  the  links  stretched  away  in  a  long 
light-flooded  vista,  the  few  little  clouds  in 
the  west  turned  slowly  to  gleaming  gold, 
and  he  could  hear  the  gentle  lapping  of 
the  water  against  the  rocks.  He  did  not 
know  quite  how  long  he  had  been  sitting 
there,  when  Jackie  appeared,  and  promptly 
proceeded  to  break  in  upon  his  solitude. 
They  talked  aimlessly  for  a  few  minutes, 
while  Jackie  seemed  deeply  interested  in 
the  wild  hurryings  of  a  little  ant  on  the 
table  between  them.  Suddenly  he  threw 
away  the  end  of  his  cigar,  and  studied 
Arnold's  face  long  and  earnestly. 

"  Tom,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  I  want  to 


ONE    OFF  TWO  145 

have  a  little  talk  with  you.  You  know 
what  I  think  of  you,  old  man,  how  I've 
always  believed  you  to  be  the  best  type 
our  place  ever  turns  out.  It's  the  same 
way  with  all  younger  fellows,  so  you 
mustn't  take  what  I  have  to  say  wrongly." 

"  Go  on,  Jackie,  I  know  your  sort." 

"  You  remember  the  night  I  dropped  in 
to  see  you  and  Pete,  and  told  you  about  — 
Helen  Thornton  ? " 

Tom  nodded. 

"  I  said  then  that  she  could  have  me. 
She  can  now,  bless  her !  I  love  her  with 
all  my  heart.  God  knows  I  have  no  false 
pride,  and  I'd  ask  her  to  marry  me  to- 
morrow if  I  had  a  roof  and  crust  of  bread 
to  offer  her,  but  I  haven't.  I  would  do 
her  a  great  injustice  if  I  didn't  believe 
that  she'd  share  the  roof  and  the  crust 
with  me,  if  she  loved  me,  —  but  she  doesn't. 
I  didn't  have  to  ask  her  to  find  out." 
Jackie's  face  looked  pale,  but  very  strong 
and  sweet.  He  continued  : 

"  You  ought  to  be  able  to  win  the  love 
of  almost  any  woman,  Tom,  and  you're 
worthy  of  the  very  best  she  has  to  give 


146  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

you  in  return.  You  haven't  frittered 
away  your  heart  in  a  thousand  flirtations 
and  unholy  loves,  but  you've  kept  it  clean 
and  pure,  waiting  for  the  coming  of  the  one 
woman  in  the  world.  She's  come,  Tom. 
You're  out  of  focus  over  that  confounded 
theory  of  love  being  a  growth,  and  all  that 
trash,  and  you  don't  recognise  the  blessed 
thing  now  it's  come  to  you ;  but  I  do,  and 
I  tell  you  you  love  Helen  Thornton  now. 
I  am  not  blind,  though  you  are.  I  don't 
know  whether  she'll  say  yes  or  no.  You 
and  I  are  not  the  only  moths  around  the 
candle,  but  you  owe  it  to  something  in 
your  own  soul  to  ask  her,  no  matter  what 
her  answer  may  be.  You  want  her,  go 
and  win  her,  while  you  can." 

There  was  a  long  pause,  then  Arnold 
rose.  "Thank  you,  Jackie,"  he  said,  sim- 
ply, and  turning  aside  he  went  out  into 
the  glory  of  the  sunset. 


IV 


The   next    evening    two  figures    came 
slowly  toward  the  green   of  the  fifteenth 


ONE  OFF  TWO 

hole.  Had  they  looked,  they  could  have 
seen  the  silver  thread  of  the  river  winding 
along  for  miles.  All  distinct  outlines  were 
lost  in  the  deepening  dusk,  while  here  and 
there,  from  the  quiet  little  village,  a  light 
gleamed  out  like  a  star. 

They  had  sent  their  caddies  back  to  the 
club-house,  believing  it  too  dark  to  finish, 
although  Helen  Thornton  was  studying  the 
line  of  her  put  intently,  and  Arnold  stood 
quietly  watching  her.  She  was  conscious 
of  a  decided  change  in  him,  and,  woman- 
like, would  almost  have  put  away  from  her 
that  for  which  she  most  longed.  At  last 
she  looked  up,  with  an  appealing  little 
expression  in  her  beautiful  gray  eyes. 

"  I'm  so  stupid,  —  I've  forgotten  the 
score,"  she  said,  breathlessly,  while  Arnold, 
catching  both  her  hands  in  his,  drew  her 
gently  to  him. 

"  Bother  the  score,"  he  said,  recklessly, 
"  or  rather,  let's  call  it  one  off  two ! " 


DOING  SOMETHING  FOR 
HIS  COLLEGE 


VII 

DOING  SOMETHING  FOR  HIS 
COLLEGE 

A  STRONG  athletic  figure  on  crutches 
stumped  doggedly  along  the  road 
toward  the  Yale  field.  Groups  of  students 
in  a  steady  stream  passed  by,  some  with  a 
word  or  jest,  others  with  the  supreme  in- 
difference of  "upper  classmen."  Fred 
Walters  was  going  out  to  see  the  'Varsity 
practice  for  the  first  time  since  he  had 
made  a  touchdown  for  the  college  side, 
and  had  been  picked  up  with  a  dislocated 
knee  which  he  knew  now  would  prevent 
his  playing  for  a  season  at  least.  It  was 
a  bitter  blow,  as  his  rather  unusual  com- 
bination of  strength  and  great  agility  had 
made  him  an  almost  certain  candidate  for 
the  position  of  half-back.  He  had  been 


152  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

captain  of  his  school  eleven,  and  thought 
he  could  play  football,  but  he  did  not  know 
that  his  docility  under  hard  coaching  had 
brought  him  to  the  favourable  notice  of 
every  veteran  on  the  field. 

Practice  had  already  begun  when  he 
arrived,  and  the  steam  from  twenty-two 
perspiring  young  bodies  was  clearly  visible 
in  the  keen,  crisp  autumn  air. 

"Tackle  low!"  rang  out  the  bell-like 
voice  of  the  coach,  as  a  half-back  on  the 
college  side  made  a  pretty  run  around  the 
end,  aided  by  some  clever  interference. 
He  was  pretty  well  toward  the  goal  when 
Summers,  the  full-back,  met  him  with  a 
rush,  and  they  went  down  together. 

Walters  followed  each  play  breathlessly. 
Things  were  going  with  a  vim,  as  the  team 
was  sifting  down  to  its  final  make-up. 
When  time  was  called,  Morton,  the  famous 
ex-captain,  noticed  the  tall,  crippled  figure, 
and  the  despairing  eyes  that  followed  the 
team  as  they  walked  off. 

"  Poor  devil !  "  he  murmured  to  himself. 
"  There's  a  heartbroken  boy,  if  ever  there 
was  one." 


SOMETHING   FOR   HIS   COLLEGE    153 

"  Knee  gone  back  on  you  ? "  he  asked, 
sauntering  up  to  him. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Walters,  flushing 
with  surprise  and  pleasure.  "  I'm  afraid 
I'm  useless  for  the  rest  of  the  term,  any- 
way." 

"  Tough  luck ! "  said  the  ex-captain. 
"Better  try  for  the  nine  in  the  spring." 

All  that  winter  Walters  nursed  his 
knee  assiduously.  With  the  first  break 
in  the  weather  he  was  out  getting  into 
shape,  and  his  spirits  grew  high  as  his 
knee  behaved  pretty  well  on  long  runs, 
and  in  the  gymnasium ;  but  when  the  nine 
went  out  for  its  first  practice  game,  he 
wrenched  it  sliding  for  base. 

"  Good-bye  to  my  last  chance  to  try  for 
a  white  Y,"  he  thought,  as  they  carried 
him  off  the  field,  and  the  world  looked 
very  black. 

He  was  a  severe  trial  to  his  family  that 
summer.  He  would  do  nothing  and  go 
nowhere,  but  sat  on  the  piazza  and  moped, 
or  read  until  he  could  not  see.  He  used 
to  jeer  at  his  brother  Burk,  —  who  had 
been  a  famous  sprinter  and  had  always  held 


154  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

Fred's  highest  respect,  —  because  Burk 
had  taken  up  golf.  Fred  had  conde- 
scended once  or  twice  to  walk  over  the 
course,  and  had  exasperated  Burk  almost 
beyond  endurance. 

"  Why,  the  game  is  only  fit  for  women, 
and  duffers  with  one  foot  in  the  grave," 
Fred  had  remarked,  scornfully. 

"  You'd  better  wait  till  you  know  some- 
thing about  it  before  you  give  an  opinion," 
replied  Burk,  sharply.  "  The  trouble  with 
you  is,  that  you're  so  crabbed  and  self- 
centred  you  can't  see  an  inch  before 
your  nose.  If  you  had  any  sense,  you'd 
take  up  the  game  and  see  what  you  could 
do  with  it,  instead  of  jeering  at  your 
betters.  Football  and  baseball  are  pretty 
fine,  and  you  had  beastly  tough  luck,  I'll 
admit,  but  you  have  to  take  what  comes 
your  way  in  this  world  and  not  sit  crying 
for  the  moon  like  a  baby.  You'd  better 
think  if  you  can't  do  something  for  your 
college." 

Fred  turned  this  advice  over  in  his 
mind.  Here  was  the  candid  opinion  of 
a  man  who  was  one  of  Yale's  best  known 


SOMETHING  FOR  HIS  COLLEGE    155 

athletes,  and  even  if  he  did  happen  to  be 
his  brother,  it  was  not  to  be  despised. 
So,  more  as  a  task  than  as  a  pleasure,  he 
decided  to  go  in  for  golf.  With  the  bland 
disregard  for  "  meum  and  tuum  "  that  col- 
legians seem  to  possess,  he  took  posses- 
sion of  Burk's  clubs,  and  helped  himself 
to  some  old  balls  which  "had  been  set 
aside  to  be  remade. 

Pretty  Miss  Richardson  came  upon  him 
one  morning  with  his  trousers  rolled  up  as 
far  as  they  would  go,  his  cap  on  the  back 
of  his  head,  and  in  his  hand  a  crab  net. 
He  was  standing  knee-deep  in  the  pond 
of  the  third  hole,  and  all  about  him,  like 
apples  in  a  tub  at  "  Hallowe'en,"  were 
little  bobbing  balls.  He  looked  irresistibly 
funny,  and  his  earnest  expression,  as  he 
bent  down  and  tried  to  land  some  refrac- 
tory little  piece  of  gutta  percha,  was  too 
much  for  Miss  Richardson's  gravity. 

"  Remades  float, 
Like  Ivory  Soap," 

she  chanted  as  soon  as  she  could  speak. 
"  You  seem  to  have  put  a  good  many  in 


156  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

there,  not  counting  those  that  have  retired 
to  the  bottom.  Since  when  has  your  high- 
ness taken  up  the  Ancient  and  Royal  ?  I 
thought  you  were  a  confirmed  scoffer." 

"  So  I  was  until  Burk  read  me  a  moral 
lecture.  This  is  the  result." 

"  Have  you  had  any  instruction  ? "  in- 
quired Miss  Richardson. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  have  only  fooled  around  a 
little  by  myself." 

"That  is  a  great  mistake,"  she  said, 
quickly,  "because  in  two  or  three  days 
one  can  get  into  bad  habits  that  may  take 
months  to  correct.  We  have  a  splendid 
professional  here,  his  irons  are  really 
wonderful ;  why  don't  you  get  hold  of 
him,  and  take  some  lessons  ? " 

"  I  think  I  will,"  he  answered,  with 
more  animation  than  he  had  shown  for 
weeks. 

After  Miss  Richardson's  departure  he 
gathered  up  his  balls,  and,  restoring  his 
trousers  to  their  normal  position,  went 
back  to  the  caddy-house.  Burnie  was 
getting  some  remades  for  a  very  pretty 
girl  whom  Walters  did  not  know. 


SOMETHING   FOR    HIS   COLLEGE     157 

"  I've  come  to  see  if  you  have  time  to 
take  me  in  hand,"  said  Walters,  as  she 
walked  away. 

"  Mayhap  a'll  have  a  stray  oour  noo 
an'  agen,"  said  Burnie,  looking  him  over 
keenly.  "Ye  'ill  hae  played  a  bit,  a'm 
thinkin'  ? " 

"  No  —  I'm  a  duffer  pure  and  simple." 

"  Ah,  weel,  we'll  try  wha  we  can  do  wie 
ye.  There's  na  tellin'  till  ye  try.  There's 
Mister  Wallace,  a  vera  proper  gentleman, 
all  his  best  efforts  went  into  the  '  cassams,' 
and  he  would  na  play  wie  aught  but  an 
iron  i'  spite  o'  all  a'  could  say.  Then  he 
went  awa  ter  Willie  Manis,  who  said  the 
same  as  a'  did,  and  bought  twa  wooden 
clubs,  fer  ye  see  Mister  Wallace  is  ane  o 
these  hard-headen  business  gentlemen,  an' 
he  said,  'When  twa  professionals  agree 
tergether  there  must  be  somethin'  in  it.'  " 

"  I  hear  you  are  considered  one  of  the 
best  iron  players  in  this  country,"  said 
Fred,  sitting  down  on  the  doorstep  and 
lighting  his  pipe. 

"Aye,  a'  should  na  wonder,"  replied 
Burnie,  complacently,  "  a'm  a  vera  val-u- 


158  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

able  mon,  Mister  Walters,  as  mony  can 
testify,  an'  a'm  thinkin'  that  the  gentlemen 
o'  this  club  are  commencin'  ter  appreciate 
that  a'm  conscientious,  an'  a  hard  wurker. 
They  could  na  hae  a  better  mon ;  na,  na, 
they  could  na,  fer  a'  understand  ma  busi- 
ness an'  what  is  proper  fer  ma  position. 
Ye  'ill  see  professionals  frae  the  old 
countree,  —  a'  mind  there's  Willie  Manis 
and  Jock  McCrae,  they  could  na  keep 
their  silly  heads  ter  their  duties,  but  went 
gallivantin'  aboot  wie  boats  an'  ither  fool- 
ishness. Wie  me,  ye  'ill  hear  it's  different. 
There's  na  word  exceptin'  praise.  There 
could  na  be,"  he  added,  positively. 

Walters  was  so  taken  aback  at  this 
wonderful  eulogy  that  he  looked  around 
to  see  what  manner  of  man  Burnie  was. 
Little  and  stocky,  he  might  have  been  any 
age  from  thirty  to  fifty.  He  never  wore 
anything  but  a  shapeless  old  tweed  suit, 
once  brown,  but  now  a  gray  green,  which 
he  was  proud  of  saying  "  had  served  him 
fer  mony  a  year,  an'  would  serve  him  fer 
as  mony  mair."  He  had  an  ugly  weather- 
beaten  face,  with  sandy  hair,  but  there 


SOMETHING  FOR  HIS  COLLEGE     159 

was  something  beneath  his  ugliness  and 
conceit  which  made  one  believe  in  and  like 
him. 

"  Have  you  an  hour  to  spare  -now  ? " 
asked  Walters,  as  he  put  up  his  pipe. 
Burnie  said  he  had,  and  the  two  started 
out  together. 

All  Walters' s  experience  in  athletics  had 
tended  toward  the  valuation  of  great  physi- 
cal strength  and  force,  so  his  ideas  on  golf 
ran  to  the  heaviest  clubs,  and  the  longest 
swing.  Taking  the  driver  in  his  powerful 
hands,  he  whirled  it  around  his  head  until 
it  seemed  as  though  the  slender  shaft  must 
break.  When  he  hit  the  ball,  after  a  few 
attempts,  it  went  singing  through  the  air 
with  the  force  of  a  bullet. 

"Aye,  aye,  but  ye  put  pooer  into  't," 
said  Burnie,  somewhat  impressed  in  spite 
of  himself.  "That's  na  the  way,  laddie. 
Yer  a  fine  figure  of  a  mon,  and  ye've  mony 
a  pound  ter  yir  credit,  but  ye  maun  na 
expect  ter  expend  yir  pooer  upon  a  bit 
golf  ball.  'Tis  the  directness  wie  which 
the  club  hits  the  ball  that  tells." 

"  But  I  don't  see  how  one  can  get  dis- 


160  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

tance  without  force,"  said  Walters,  uncon- 
vinced. 

"  Lord's  sake,  mon,  ye  get  yir  distance 
wie  the  wrists  and  wie  the  follow  through. 
A  long  swing  is  a  vera  gude  thing,  an'  so 
is  pooer,  but  there's  mair  to  it  than  that. 
Try  aince  agen,  an'  dinna  swing  sa  madly." 

Walters  did  so,  and  got  a  moderately 
long  ball  perfectly  straight.  He  was  not 
satisfied  to  follow  Burnie's  advice,  how- 
ever, and  began  hitting  hard.  He  gained 
great  distance,  but  either  pulled  or  sliced 
badly. 

"  A'  see  it  a'  noo,"  said  Burnie,  who  had 
watched  him  in  silence.  "  Ye've  got  the 
long  drivin'  bee  in  yir  bonnet,  an'  it  'ill 
stay  there  in  spite  o'  aw  a'  can  say,  till  ye 
learn  yir  ain  lesson  ;  but,  look  ye,  yir 
balls  were  a'  either  hooked,  or  swithered, 
an'  if  ye  were  playin'  in  a  ma'ch,  ye'd  find 
that  tho'  ye  were  hole  high  on  yir  second 
shot,  an'  yir  opponent  playin'  the  odd, 
when  it  came  ter  holen  oot  on  the  green, 
ye'd  be  playin'  the  like  instead  o'  one  off 
two.  Tis  the  straight  ball  that  counts  in 
the  end,  laddie,  an'  the  sooner  ye  learn  ter 


SOMETHING  FOR  HIS   COLLEGE     l6l 

believe  what  a'  say,  the  sooner  I'll  make  a 
golfer  o'  ye,  —  f er  a'm  thinkin'  ye  gie  a  bit 
promise  i'  spite  o'  yir  obstinate  conclu- 
sions. A'  dinna  say  so  positively,  mind 
ye,  but  if  ye  put  yirsel'  in  ma  hand,  an' 
refrain  frae  too  mony  idees  o'  yir  ain,  — 
aweel,  I'll  make  nae  promises.  Ye'll  be 
wantin'  some  clubs,  a'm  thinkin'  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Walters,  "  these  are 
only  a  borrowed  set  of  my  brother's.  This 
is  a  beautiful  driver  of  yours,  Burnie." 

"  Aye,  ye  may  weel  say  that !  "  he  an- 
swered, proudly,  "fer  a'  made  every  part 
o'  it  wie  ma  ain  hand,  and  a'm  only  just 
to  ma'sel'  when  a'  say  that  there's  na 
better  hand  in  a'  the  countree-side. 
There's  Mr.  Samson,  a  vera  proper 
gentleman,  an'  a  good  jedge  o'  merit,  he 
saed  ter  me,  '  Burnie,  yir  clubs  are  o'  tha 
vera  best ;  there's  nane  better,  an'  a'  want 
an  ither  brassey  and  twa  drivers  o'  the 
same  pattern.'  That's  what  a'  call  a  vera 
discernin'  gentleman,  Mister  Walters." 

"You  must  make  quite  some  money," 
said  Fred,  as  they  sauntered  toward  the 
caddy-house. 


1 62  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"A'm  makin'  a  wie  bit,"  answered 
Burnie.  "  Aye,  just  a  wie  bit,  an'  a'm 
thinkin'  it's  only  what  a'  deserve.  A'  was 
able  ter  send  a  matter  o'  fifty  pounds  ter 
ma  brother  awa'  in  Scotlan'.  A'  tho't  'twas 
better  than  writin'  affectionate  letters. 
He's  annither  splendid  mon,  is  ma  brother. 
Just  like  masel',  an'  vera  steady.  'Tis 
once  a  month  he  goes  ter  th'  Edinboro 
teerter  an'  passes  a  fine  night." 

"  And  you,  don't  you  ever  go  ? " 

"  'Tis  vera  seldom  a'm  leavin',  a'm  mair 
content  i'  the  open,"  he  answered,  looking 
around  at  the  wide  horizon  line. 

When  they  reached  the  caddy-house, 
Walters  selected  three  irons,  a  heavy 
cleek,  a  mid-iron,  and  a  light  Morris  lofter, 
but  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  his 
wooden  clubs.  After  much  weighing  and 
balancing,  Burnie  finally  chose  him  a 
rather  light  brassey  well  laid  back,  and 
with  very  little  spring  in  the  shaft.  When 
it  came  to  the  driver,  Fred  had  an  idea  of 
his  own. 

"This  is  a  pretty  nice  club,"  said  he, 
taking  up  the  one  he  had  been  using. 


SOMETHING   FOR  HIS   COLLEGE     163 

"  There's  nae  better,"  answered  Burnie. 

"  Why  won't  you  sell  me  this  one  ?  I  got 
on  rather  decently  with  it  this  afternoon." 

Burnie  tipped  his  cap  back,  and  scratched 
his  head  meditatively.  "Aye,  'tis  a  fine 
one,  an'  suits  ye  fairly,"  he  murmured 
half  aloud.  He  took  it  out  of  Walters's 
hand,  and  went  over  it  inch  by  inch. 

"A'  made  it  a'  wie  ma  own  hand,  an' 
'tis  masel'  that  used  it."  Then  he  glanced 
up  quickly  and  handed  Fred  the  club. 

"  A'll  gie  it  to  ye,  a'll  gie  it  to  ye,"  he 
said,  turning  resolutely  away. 

"Oh,  no!"  cried  Walters,  greatly  em- 
barrassed. "Let  me  buy  it,  if  you  are 
willing  to  let  me  have  it  at  all.  I'm  more 
than  anxious  to  have  the  club,  but  if  you 
won't  let  me  pay  for  it,  then  I  can't  accept 
it." 

"  Na,  na,  a'll  gie  it  to  ye !  "  said  Burnie, 
with  desperate  decision,  although  his  eye 
lingered  on  it  lovingly.  "  It's  no  fer  me 
to  be  praisin'  masel',  but  ye'll  see,  Mr. 
Walters,  that  a'm  a  vera  just  mon,  an' 
content  wie  a  reasonable  profit.  Ye'll  be 
wanting  mony  a  club  frae  me,  a'm  thinkin', 


164  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

an  a'd  like  yer  trade.  Na,  a'll  gie  it  to  ye, 
a'll  gie  it  to  ye,"  and  "  gie  it  to  him  "  he 
did. 

By  the  end  of  the  summer  Walters  had 
developed  a  very  fair  game,  although 
hampered  in  his  progress  by  his  desire 
to  gain  unusual  distance.  He  went  back 
to  college  with  the  firm  intention  of  get- 
ting on  the  team  if  it  was  a  possible  thing, 
and  if  he  failed,  to  keep  on  trying  until  he 
succeeded.  All  during  that  winter  he 
could  be  seen  in  a  quiet  corner  of  the 
gymnasium  swinging  steadily,  for  an  hour 
at  a  time ;  then,  with  an  old  door-mat  for 
a  green,  he  pitched  balls  from  varying  dis- 
tances until  he  became  positively  deadly 
in  his  accuracy.  No  one  paid  very  much 
attention  to  him  except  to  smile,  and  put 
him  down  as  a  golf  crank.  In  the  spring 
he  was  out  early,  with  high  hopes,  but 
soon  became  dreadfully  discouraged,  as  his 
balls  were  all  badly  pulled  or  sliced,  and  he 
had  lost  even  his  distance.  Nothing  seemed 
to  result  from  his  long  winter's  practice  but 
an  approach  shot  which  nine  times  out  of 
ten  ran  up  dead  to  the  hole.  As  the  local 


SOMETHING  FOR  HIS  COLLEGE     165 

club  tournament  approached,  his  spirits 
sank  lower  and  lower.  All  the  college 
cracks  were  entered,  and  the  result  car- 
ried considerable  weight  in  the  first  selec- 
tions for  the  team. 

On  the  opening  day  he  had  the  bad 
luck  to  draw  Newcome,  the  Yale  captain. 
Newcome  was  rather  put  out  about  it,  and 
was  overheard  to  remark  that  he  had  hoped 
to  "get  a  good  match  and  try  for  a  record, 
but  had  caught  a  duffer."  This  did  not 
improve  Walters's  frame  of  mind,  and  his 
start  was  worse  even  than  he  had  antici- 
pated. He  topped,  pulled,  sliced,  and 
pressed  so  badly  that,  after  regarding  him 
with  astonishment  for  a  hole  or  two,  New- 
come  ceased  to  consider  him,  and  played 
his  own  game. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  nine,  Walters 
had  given  up  all  hope ;  then,  for  no  ap- 
parent reason,  he  steadied  down,  and  to 
the  astonishment  of  every  one,  including 
himself,  he  came  in  so  well  that  when  the 
scores  were  posted  he  was  the  last  to 
qualify. 

"  By  Jove,  I  wouldn't  have  thought  it 


1 66  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

possible !  "  said  Newcome,  as  they  all 
stood  around  the  board  together,  "  and  I 
don't  see  quite  yet  how  it  happened." 

"  Neither  do  I,"  replied  Walters,  "  but 

it  won't  make  much  difference  in  the  end, 

—  it's   only  one   more  day  of   agony  for 

me,  and  a  dead  sure  thing  for  the  other 

fellow." 

But  to  his  surprise  he  won  his  first 
match,  although  only  after  a  very  close 
call.  This  gave  him  a  certain  measure  of 
confidence,  and  his  game  came  with  a 
rush  ;  steadily,  surely,  and  sometimes 
brilliantly  he  won  his  way,  until  he  and 
Newcome  were  left  face  to  face  in  the 
finals. 

"  You  diaphanous  stuff,"  said  Newcome, 
giving  him  a  friendly  clip  on  the  shoul- 
der, "  I  like  your  impertinence  !  " 

The  two  men  had  quite  a  gallery  as 
they  started  out,  and  Walters  gave  New- 
come  the  game  of  his  life.  They  halved 
hole  after  hole,  Walters  playing  for  a  place 
on  the  team,  Newcome  defending  his  title 
of  champion,  so  every  hole  was  a  battle. 
It  was  only  after  winning  two  straight, 


SOMETHING  FOR   HIS   COLLEGE     167 

and  halving  the  match  on  the  eighteenth, 
that  Walters  wavered,  and  on  the  nine- 
teenth sliced  so  badly  that  the  match 
went  to  Newcome  by  one  up. 

"  By  Jove !  but  he  was  hard  to  beat," 
said  Newcome,  mopping  his  brow  and 
taking  his  clubs  from  Peterson,  "  and  who 
would  have  thought  it,  after  the  exhibition 
he  made  of  himself  on  the  first  day  !  Golf 
is  a  wonderful  mystery,  that's  all  there  is 
about  it." 

A  few  weeks  later  Walters  found  him- 
self ranked  fourth  on  the  team,  and  dur- 
ing all  the  practice  games  at  the  different 
clubs  he  usually  managed  to  hold  his 
man.  He  soon  began  to  be  considered 
pretty  steady,  and  a  hard  man  to  down,  so 
at  the  Intercollegiates,  Newcome  decided 
to  play  him  third.  When  the  eventful 
occasion  arrived,  the  first  person  Walters 
saw  as  he  was  preparing  to  start  on  a 
practice  round  was  Burnie. 

"  Ye  see,  a'  could  na  be  sa  near  an'  not 
cume  ter  see  ye,"  he  said,  in  response  to 
Walters's  astonishment.  "  A'  was  in  New 
York  fer  a  matter  o'  three  days  expendin' 


1 68  DJtll'ES  AA'D  PUTS 

a  lot  o'  money.  Aye !  a'm  takin*  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars'  worth  o'  stuff  back 
wie  me.  Ye  see  a'  believe  in  havin'  the 
best  o'  whatever  ony  gentleman  is  like  ter 
ask  fer,  then  yir  satisfied  yirseTs,  an'  a* 
get  ma  bit  profit  cheerful-like.  A'  want  ter 
gie  ye  a  word  o'  advice,"  he  added.  "  Ye've 
done  vera  weel,  an'  a'm  fair  prood  o"  ye, 
but  ye  can  do  better,  there's  nae  doot 
aboot  it  Dinna  furget  that  'tis  mair 
satisfyin'  ter  halve  the  hole  than  to  lose 
it,  an  if  ye  hae  th*  advantage  o'  ain  or  two 
up,  dinna  press  tha  match  ter  hae  it  sune 
ower  wie.  There's  mair  loss  than  gain  i' 
that,  a'll  tell  ye.  There's  Harrie  Var- 
don  —  " 

"All  right,"  hastily  interrupted  Wal- 
ters, who  had  heard  of  "  Harrie  Yardon  " 
before,  "  I'll  remember  what  you  say," 
and,  finding  his  man,  succeeded  in  making 
his  escape. 

As  it  happened,  Harvard  beat  Prince- 
ton, and  Yale  beat  Columbia  on  the  first 
day  of  team-play,  leaving  the  two  old 
rivals  to  fight  it  out  together.  They  all 
got  an  early  start,  but  before  half  the  men 


SOMETHING  FOR  HIS  COLLEGE     169 

had  driven  off  the  rain  came  down  in 
sheets.  Every  one's  spirits  seemed  to 
take  on  the  colour  of  the  sky,  until,  later 
on  in  the  day,  it  was  seen  that  the  match 
would  be  a  very  dose  one.  The  Harvard 
and  Yale  captains  were  the  last  to  arrive, 
and  it  was  discovered  that  their  score 
made  the  championship  a  tie.  Then  every 
one  began  to  talk  at  once,  and  the  Com- 
mittee went  into  immediate  session,  to 
decide  how  the  tie  should  be  played  off. 
After  much  bandying  of  words,  and  some 
heated  discussion,  it  was  arranged  to  take 
an  extra  day,  and  play  eighteen  holes  the 
following  morning,  the  men  to  be  paired 
as  before. 

The  strain  was  beginning  to  tell  on 
Walters's  nerves,  and  he  went  out  about 
nine  o'clock  to  drive  a  few  practice  balls. 
They  were  going  off  superbly  when  he 
came  down  too  straight  on  the  ball, 
and,  hitting  the  ground,  split  the  head  of 
his  club  in  two.  Fortunately,  he  had 
brought  a  duplicate  head  of  Burnie's  with 
him,  and  the  two  went  over  to  the 
caddy-house  together  to  have  it  put  on 


I/O  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

properly.  This  took  some  little  time,  so 
Walters  and  Merriman  of  Harvard  were 
the  last  to  start.  Walters  did  very  poorly 
for  the  first  two  or  three  holes,  and  Merri- 
man got  a  dangerous  lead.  Then  getting 
on  to  the  balance  of  his  new  club,  Fred 
began  to  pick  up,  gradually  gaining  upon 
his  opponent,  until  at  the  eighteenth  tee 
they  stood  even  all.  Both  got  away  good 
drives,  and  both  used  brasseys  for  their 
second  shot.  Walking  slowly  over  the 
brow  of  the  hill,  they  saw  an  immense 
crowd  around  the  home  green.  From 
where  they  stood,  the  red  coats  massed 
together  shone  out  like  great  flowers 
against  the  blue  gray  of  the  river.  There 
was  such  a  distinct  air  of  stir  and  ex- 
pectancy about  the  gallery  that  the 
two  men  looked  at  each  other  apprehen- 
sively. 

"  Do  you  think  it  rests  with  us  ? "  asked 
Merriman,  turning  a  shade  paler. 

Walters  couldn't  speak, — he  nodded 
and  walked  over  to  his  ball.  It  caught 
the  roll  of  the  hill  and  ran  across  the 
green  about  twelve  feet  beyond  the  hole. 


SOMETHING  FOR   HIS   COLLEGE     I /I 

Merriman,  who  had  gained  considerably 
more  than  Walters  on  his  second  shot, 
made  a  superb  approach,  and  landed  about 
five  feet  from  the  hole. 

The  ground  seemed  to  give  way  under 
Walters's  feet  as  he  walked  toward  the 
green.  He  caught  sight  of  Newcome's 
agonised  face,  and  his  heart  beat  almost 
to  suffocation.  He  bent  mechanically, 
and  brushed  aside  a  leaf  with  the  back 
of  his  hand. 

He  knelt  to  get  his  direction.  "  Oh 
make  it ! "  hoarsely  whispered  a  voice 
very  near  him,  that  he  recognised  as  his 
brother's. 

Then  he  took  a  deep  breath  and  felt  his 
hands  grow  steady  and  his  nerves  like 
steel.  After  careful  study  he  made  his 
put,  and  the  ball  shot  forward  straight  as 
a  die,  then,  rimming  the  cup  a  little, 
wavered  and  blundered  in. 

The  gallery  broke  into  a  sudden  burst 
of  applause,  which  was  instantly  stilled. 
But  it  was  too  late,  —  the  strain,  and  Wal- 
ters discouragingly  long  put,  after  his  own 
beautiful  approach,  was  too  much  for  Mer- 


1/2  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

riman,  and  he  missed  for  a  halve,  the 
championship  going  to  Yale. 

"  A'  told  ye  hoo  it  would  be,"  rang  out 
Burnie's  voice  above  all  the  others,  as  the 
team  went  into  the  dressing-room.  "  A' 
was  just  countin'  on  his  doin'  it,  fer  a'm 
no  praisin'  ma  sel'  too  highly  when  a'  say 
there's  nae  a  professional  i'  tha  land  wha' 
could  'a'  made  a  golfer  o'  Mister  Walters  i' 
tha  same  time.  There's  Harrie  Vardon  —  " 

"  Oh,  drop  Harrie  Vardon  and  come  in 
and  celebrate,"  said  Burk,  who  was  wild 
with  joy,  and  was  going  to  fill  the  cup. 

"  Here's  to  the  man  who  did  it,  fellows," 
said  Newcome  a  little  later,  throwing  one 
arm  across  Walters's  shoulder,  and  with 
the  other  lifting  the  brimming  trophy  high 
in  the  air. 


A  SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN 


VIII 

A  SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN 

"  T  T  ERE  comes  a  sport,"  said  Gray  to 
1  J.  a  group  of  men  seated  around  a 
table  in  the  club  cafe>  "  and  not  only  a 
sport,  but  a  sportsman,  —  there's  a  distinc- 
tion and  a  difference,  you  know." 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  Rollins,  looking 
up  with  interest. 

"  Henderson,  of  Compressed  Cotton 
fame." 

"  Indeed !  "  exclaimed  Rollins.  "  I've 
often  wanted  to  see  him.  He  must  be  very 
wealthy  —  " 

"  Wealthy  !  Well,  I  should  say  so.  Com- 
ing to  think  of  it,  he's  one  of  the  few 
wealthy  Southerners  that  have  ever  come 
my  way.  It  doesn't  seem  to  spoil  them 
apparently,  —  that  is,  if  he's  a  fair  sample." 


176  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

"  Good  evenin',  gentlemen,"  said  the 
newcomer,  bowing  to  the  group  in  general 
with  an  old-world  courtesy  that  somehow 
suggested  the  faint  odour  of  dried  rose 
leaves.  "  May  I  have  the  pleasure  of 
joinin'  you  ? " 

They  greeted  him  cordially,  and  made 
room  for  him  at  their  little  round  table. 

"  Don't  say  I'm  too  late  to  offer  you  all 
a  mint  julep,"  he  remarked,  ringing  the 
bell.  "  I  can't  say  that  it  will  be  like  the 
ones  Cousin  Lee  Pickins  gives  us  in  old 
Kentucky.  I  tell  you,  gentlemen,  there's 
a  bed  of  mint  under  the  dining-room  win- 
dow of  my  old  home  out  there  that  haunts 
me  in  my  dreams.  By  the  way,"  he  added, 
turning  to  Gray,  "  I'd  like  to  play  a  match 
with  you,  sir,  —  suit  yourself  about  time, 
—  I'm  up  here  for  a  day  or  so  for  some 
good  solid  golf." 

"  I  shall  be  delighted,"  answered  Gray. 
"  Let  me  see  —  I  think  I  could  get  away 
Thursday,  and  perhaps  get  the  3.35.  How 
shall  we  play  ?  " 

"You'd  better  believe  we'll  play  even, 
sir.  My  game  is  coming  along.  Shall  we 


A   SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN        177 

play  a  ball  a  hole,  and  a  box  of  balls  on  the 
match  ? " 

Gray  looked  a  little  uncomfortable.  He 
knew  he  was  one  of  the  best  players  in  the 
club,  and  knew  also  that  Henderson  had 
not  been  very  long  at  the  game. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do,"  he  said, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation.  "  We'll  limit 
the  stakes  to  four  remades.  We  do  that 
quite  a  little  here." 

"  Remades  ?     What  are  remades  ? " 

The  four  men  at  the  table  looked  at  each 
other  with  raised  eyebrows. 

"  Why,  a  remade  is  a  ball  that  has  been 
used  once  or  twice,  and  is  then  remoulded 
and  repainted.  If  the  work  is  well  done, 
it's  not  half  bad  for  practice." 

"  I  never  heard  of  them,"  he  answered, 
quite  sincerely.  "  What  did  you  say  about 
four  balls  ? "" 

"  Only  that  instead  of  playing  for  a  ball 
a  hole,  we  might  play  for  four  on  the 
match." 

"  That  means,  if  I  win  six  holes,  I  only 
get  four  balls.  No,  sir,  I'm  no  great 
golfer,  but  I'll  play  you  for  a  ball  a  hole, 


1/8  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

and  a  dozen  on  the  match,  and  I'm  not 
afraid  of  being  beaten,  either." 

"Very  well;  I'm  willing,"  said  Gray, 
with  a  laugh. 

"  Hello,  Wheeler  !  How  do  you  like  the 
course  ? "  said  Rollins  to  a  rather  stout, 
middle-aged  man  who  sauntered  up  to  the 
table. 

"  I  don't  like  it  at  all,"  he  answered, 
sharply.  "  In  fact,  I  think  it's  the  poorest 
I've  ever  seen." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  it  ? "  demanded 
Gray,  rather  resentfully. 

"Why,  it  is  nothing  but  hills,  bunkers, 
and  ravines  ;  it's  ridiculous." 

"  One  must  have  some  bunkers,"  replied 
Rollins. 

"  Some,  yes ;  but  yours  are  so  badly 
placed.  They're  sure  to  catch  the  average 
drive." 

"I  know  what  is  the  matter  with  you, 
Colonel  Wheeler.  You  always  want  to 
play  score,"  said  Gray.  "You  medal-play 
sharps  look  upon  every  bunker  as  an  enemy. 
You  would  shorten  the  course,  make  the 
fair-green  a  lawn,  and  the  putting-green 


A   SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN        1/9 

a  billiard-table  ;  have  everything  flat,  never 
a  hanging  lie.  You  would  fill  up  all  ra- 
vines and  lift  out  of  every  road,  and,  if 
you  were  not  ashamed,  you'd  suggest  a 
place  lie  for  every  shot ;  and  for  what  ? 
A  few  miserable  points  more  or  less." 

"  What  a  tirade,"  said  Rollins,  enjoying 
Wheeler's  expression  immensely. 

"  You  score  fiends,"  went  on  Gray,  now 
thoroughly  aroused,  "  never  get  anywhere. 
Why  ?  Because  you  never  take  the  time 
to  learn,  or  practise.  It's  too  expensive. 
Experiments  make  you  lose  strokes,  so  you 
never  make  them,  and,  consequently,  never 
improve.  By  and  by  you  lose  even  the 
poor  thing  you  called  your  game,  and  then 
comes  the  crucial  test ;  for  if  you  are  not 
really  strong-minded,  if  you  care  only  to 
win  the  match  of  ^he  hour,  you  will  end 
by  giving  up  the  game  altogether,  for  you 
haven't  the  courage  to  go  back  to  first  prin- 
ciples. Perhaps  one  man  in  ten  has  the 
sand  to  make  himself  over  again  after  an 
experience  of  this  kind,  and  what  is  the 
result  ?  A  new  lease  of  life  for  his  game, 
and  the  knowledge  of  a  few  other  impor- 


180  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

tant  things  beside.  Our  courses  over  here 
are  only  just  beginning  to  be  good,  because 
we  are  all  only  just  beginning  to  under- 
stand that  a  topped  drive  deserves  to  be 
penalised,  and  that  the  fairest  test  of 
golf,  in  the  end,  is  a  long  playing  dis- 
tance." 

"  Hear !  hear  !  "  said  an  Englishman 
who  had  been  quietly  listening.  "  You 
are  all  only  beginners,  anyway,  and  some 
of  your  ideas  seem  odd  to  an  old-timer  like 
myself,  but  you  are  learning  fast,  and  you 
are  going  to  be  great  dabs  at  the  game. 
It's  one  of  your  characteristics  that,  if 
you  do  anything  at  all,  you  end  in  doing 
it  well." 

"  Hear  the  British  lion,"  said  Rollins. 
"  He's  making  us  purr." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,  Gray,"  said 
Colonel  Wheeler,  who  had  been  talking  to 
Henderson,  "  I'll  bet  you  twenty-five  dol- 
lars that  Henderson  will  beat  you  on 
Thursday,  and  ten  dollars  that  he  beats 
you  more  than  two  up.  I  don't  believe 
you  know  as  much  about  golf  as  you 
think  you  do." 


A   SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN         l8l 

"  I'm  sorry,  but  I  never  bet  on  myself," 
said  Gray,  quietly.  "  It  destroys  all  my 
pleasure." 

"That's  queer,"  remarked  Henderson. 
"  I  never  play  so  well  as  when  there  is 
something  up  on  the  result." 

"  I'll  take  you  with   pleasure,  colonel," 
said  Rollins.     "  How  much  did  you  say  — 
twenty-five  and  ten? " 

"  On  Thursday,  then,"  said  Henderson, 
rising  and  moving  toward  the  door. 

Just  then  a  weird  figure  in  a  bath-robe 
appeared  from  the  direction  of  the  locker- 
room. 

"  Hello !  here's  Jackie,"  said  the  colonel. 
"  What's  he  up  to  in  that  guise  ? " 

"  I  say,  you,  Rollins,"  called  Jackie, 
"you  take  off  my ^ socks.  Because  you 
haven't  any  of  your  own  is  no  reason  why 
you  should  take  mine." 

Every  one  at  the  table  shouted,  while 
Rollins  straightened  up  and  tried  not  to 
look  guilty. 

"  Why  do  you  accuse  me  of  having  your 
socks  ? "  he  asked,  in  an  injured  tone. 
"Because  yours  are  missing  (if  you  ever 


1 82  DRIVES   AND   PUTS 

had  any)  is  no  good  reason  why  you  should 
suspect  me  of  taking  them." 

"  I  caught  you  red-handed,"  said  Jackie, 
wrathfully,  "for  the  bath-boys  say  you 
were  looking  for  yours  for  an  hour.  Any- 
way, if  you  haven't  them,  some  one  else 
has,  and  I'm  going  to  find  them  if  I  have 
to  take  off  all  your  boots  myself." 

Henderson  had  stopped  on  his  way  out, 
to  listen,  and  came  back  a  step  or  two. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  your  claims  are 
only  limited  by  your  vision,"  he  said,  in 
his  delicious  Southern  drawl.  "There's 
Mr.  Rheinlander  over  yonder,"  pointing 
to  a  portly,  world-famed  financier,  "you'd 
better  go  and  claim  his,  too." 

Jackie  retired  under  fire  of  the  shout 
that  greeted  this  sally,  but  half  an  hour 
later  reappeared  in  the  dining-room,  with 
several  women,  in  his  usual  faultless  eve- 
ning dress.  Rollins,  unable  to  let  well 
enough  alone,  went  up  to  investigate. 

"Did  you  find  them?"  he  whispered, 
with  deadly  interest. 

"FzWthem  !  "  exclaimed  Jackie,  his  face 
like  a  thunder-cloud,  —  "  when  you  had 


A   SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN        183 

them  on  !  Get  out  of  my  sight,  or  I'll  tell 
the  story  publicly.  I'm  in  the  mood  to  do 
it,  too,  for  I've  nothing  to  protect  me  from 
new  patent  leathers  !  " 

Thursday  afternoon  found  Gray  and 
Henderson  keen  for  their  match.  Colonel 
Wheeler  had  been  unable  to  forgive  Gray 
his  comments  on  medal  play.  He  took 
everything  personally,  —  bitterly  resenting 
the  fact  that  any  person  living  knew 
more  about  golf  than  he.  In  his  heart, 
he  would  have  invented  a  patent  brassey, 
arranged  to  gauge  distance  like  a  modern 
gun,  but  he  objected  to  being  discovered. 

Gray,  after  a  few  holes,  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  Henderson  was  a  very 
formidable  opponent.  His  form  was  crude, 
and  he  pressed  constantly,  but  his  game 
had  a  dash  which  suited  his  character. 
He  never  knew  when  he  was  beaten,  and 
played  best  when  he  had  the  odds  against 
him.  Gray  found  him  the  most  delightful 
companion,  for  he  seemed  to  think  the 
etiquette  of  golf  as  important  as  the  ac- 
tual play.  He  was  an  exceptionally  long 
driver,  yet  appeared  able  to  resist  the 


184  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

temptation  to  rush  after  his  ball,  leaving 
his  partner  to  get  off  as  best  he  might. 
Gray,  who  was  an  acknowledged  crank  on 
such  questions,  and  subject  to  "  atmos- 
phere," found  himself  getting  more  than 
usual  pleasure  out  of  his  game. 

Several  of  the  older  men,  belonging  to 
Wheeler's  set,  had  put  up  considerable 
money  on  the  result.  They  were  almost 
all  backing  Henderson,  for,  although  Gray 
was  really  a  fine  player,  there  was  hardly 
a  man  whom  he  knew  who  did  not  secretly 
believe  that  he  could  beat  him,  although 
the  well-filled  boxes  of  balls  in  Gray's 
locker  proved  eloquently,  if  silently,  the 
contrary. 

Colonel  Wheeler  was  dissatisfied  with 
the  tone  of  the  players.  He  considered 
them  too  polite  by  half.  In  his  own 
matches  he  invariably  "  jollied  "  his  part- 
ner into  losing  his  temper.  That,  he 
considered,  was  half  the  battle.  Having 
backed  Henderson,  and  gotten  his  friends 
to  back  him,  he  thought  he  owned  him, 
and  felt  privileged  to  criticise  him  as  he 
saw  fit. 


A   SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN        185 

At  last  he  went  up  to  him,  and  drew 
him  aside. 

"  You  don't  claim  your  rights  ;  you're 
foolish,"  he  said.  "  Gray,  over  there  on 
the  fifth  hole,  picked  up  something  from 
behind  his  ball.  You  should  have  claimed 
the  hole." 

"The  twig  was  loose,  sir,"  said  Hender- 
son, "and  Mr.  Gray  removed  it  with  my 
permission." 

Colonel  Wheeler  thrust  his  hands  deep 
into  his  pockets,  and  savagely  chewed  the 
'  end  of  his  cigar. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  match  Gray's 
play  became  a  little  wild,  and  at  the  fif- 
teenth hole  Henderson  was  dormie  two. 
The  sixteenth  was  the  sportiest  on  the 
course.  The  carry  was  about  one  hun- 
dred yards  across  a  deep  ravine  through 
which  a  little  brook  brawled  noisily.  The 
opposite  bank  was  slightly  higher  than 
the  tee,  and  very  steep.  Gray  drove,  and, 
failing  to  get  sufficient  loft,  he  struck  the 
opposite  bank.  As  luck  would  have  it, 
the  ball  caught  on  a  little  bump  of  earth, 
instead  of  rolling  hopelessly  to  the  bottom. 


1 86  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"  What  luck,"  exclaimed  Rollins,  "  such 
things  never  happen  to  me." 

Henderson  drove,  and  got  a  good  hun- 
dred and  eighty  yards  on  the  carry,  with 
a  perfect  lie.  Colonel  Wheeler  looked 
jubilant,  and  talked  loudly  as  they  crossed 
the  bridge.  Gray  took  out  his  mashie, 
and  started  to  walk  cautiously  down  the 
steep  incline.  His  ball  was  hanging  by  a 
hair,  and  the  least  jar  might  dislodge  it. 
In  attempting  to  get  some  sort  of  a  firm 
stance,  he  completely  lost  his  balance,  and 
instinctively  put  out  his  club  to  save  him- 
self from  a  bad  fall.  The  ball,  for  some  un- 
known reason,  still  held  where  it  had  fallen. 

Colonel  Wheeler  rushed  forward  ex- 
citedly. 

"  You're  surely  not  going  to  be  idiotic 
enough  to  let  that  pass,  Henderson,"  he 
cried,  "  Gray  soled  his  club  in  that  hazard  ; 
we  all  saw  it  and  he  couldn't  deny  it  if 
he  tried.  The  hole  is  yours,  if  you'll  have 
sense  enough  to  claim  it." 

Henderson  turned  slowly  and  faced 
Wheeler.  His  gray  eyes  flashed  fire,  and 
his  lips  were  set. 


A   SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN        187 

"  Colonel  Wheeler,"  he  said,  with  dan- 
gerous quietness,  "you'll  oblige  me  by 
allowing  me  to  play  my  own  game ;  your 
interference  is  intolerable,  sir,  and  I  refuse 
to  allow  it  any  longer." 

"  But  I'm  backing  you  heavily,  man,  and 
so  are  some  of  my  friends ;  you  know 
this,  and  —  " 

"  That  is  your  affair,  not  mine,"  said 
Henderson.  "You  don't  suppose  for  an 
instant  your  backing  could  influence  me 
one  way  or  the  other.  By  heaven, 
sir ! "  he  cried,  suddenly  losing  his  self 
control,  "if  I  thought  any  man  implied 
any  such  dishonourable  thing,  I'd  strike 
him  dead !  Yes,  sir,  I'd  strike  him 
dead ! " 

"  But,  Henderson  —  "  began  Colonel 
Wheeler,  feebly. 

Henderson  reached  him  with  one  stride. 

"  You  heard  what  I  said,"  he  repeated, 
passionately.  "  If  any  man  implied  that  to 
me,  I'd  strike  him  dead.  I'd  strike  him 
dead  !  "  Then  he  turned  to  Gray  and  asked 
him  to  play  on. 

Gray  won  two  holes  straight,  and  they 


1 88  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

walked  to  the  tee  of  the  first  hole  to  play 
off  the  tie. 

"  Well,  for  a  real  common,  every-day  fool, 
commend  me  to  Henderson,"  said  the 
colonel,  defiantly,  although  still  a  trifle 
white. 

"  For  an  exhibition  of  true  sportsman- 
ship, commend  me  to  the  same,"  said  Rol- 
lins, as  he  went  over  to  congratulate  Gray 
on  the  match. 


THE  LADY  AND  THE  COW 


IX 

THE  LADY  AND  THE  COW. 

"  "\  T  7E  really  shouldn't  sacrifice  Uncle 
V  V  Nat  again  this  year,"  said  Mary, 
looking  at  her  sister  with  earnest  convic- 
tion. "  He  is  such  an  angel,  and  he  has 
seen  nothing  but  a  colourless  strip  of  beach 
and  bath-houses  for  three  years.  I  think 
his  turn  has  come." 

Frances  threw  back  her  head  with  a 
little  impatient  gesture. 

"It  is  the  survival  of  the  fittest,"  she 
said,  decidedly.  "Artistic  people  will 
forget  you,  if  you  will  allow  yourself  to 
be  forgotten.  The  new  picture  on  the 
wall  is  not  substantial  enough  for  me. 
I'd  rather  play  with  fire,  or  any  other 
exciting  element." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Mary,  "  that  is  an 
absorbing  occupation,  but  honestly,  we 
191 


192  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

have  been  too  selfish  ;  it  is  time  to  turn 
over  a  new  leaf." 

Frances  threw  up  her  hands  in  despair. 

"  When  you  become  virtuous,  that  ends 
it.  To  Gloucester  we'll  go,  willy-nilly. 
Oh,  you'll  be  all  right,"  she  added,  "  those 
tender,  near-sighted  eyes  would  stir  the 
heart  of  an  inanimate  protoplasm,  but  for 
me  —  the  only  thing  left  will  be  to  put  on 
a  red  coat  and  spread  myself  abroad  as  '  a 
bit  of  colour.'  Disguised  as  such,  I  may 
catch  the  eye  of  some  wandering  artist, 
perhaps  even  hold  it  for  a  moment,  that 
is,  if  he  has  a  Vandyke  beard  and  a  som- 
brero. With  me,  it  must  always  be  all  or 
nothing." 

"It  is  strange,"  murmured  her  sister, 
with  a  far-away  look,  "how  fine  a  line 
there  can  sometimes  be  between  all  or 
nothing." 

"  Now  you  are  beyond  me,"  said  Fran- 
ces, as  she  left  the  room. 

Uncle  Nat  received  the  news  of  the 
decision  to  spend  the  summer  in  Glouces- 
ter with  gentle  placidity.  He  would 
believe  in  Gloucester,  —  in  its  sunsets,  its 


THE  LADY  AND    THE   COW        193 

blue  waters,  its  heavenly  moors,  —  when 
he  arrived  there.  Experience  had  taught 
him  that  the  guardian  of  two  attractive 
nieces  must  not  allow  his  tastes  or  dispo- 
sition to  become  set.  To  plan  was  one 
thing,  to  execute  another. 

When  they  all  rattled  through  Glouces- 
ter's quaint  streets  in  a  tumbled-down  old 
victoria  like  an  ark,  Uncle  Nat  was  still 
with  them  in  the  flesh,  but  his  soul  was 
in  an  earthly  paradise. 

"  How  deliciously  salty  it  is !  "  he  said, 
as  they  turned  out  toward  Eastern  Point. 

"  How  deliciously  fishy,  you  mean," 
said  Frances,  with  an  agonised  sniff. 

For  the  first  few  days  the  girls  did 
nothing  but  rave  over  the  beauty  of  the 
place.  Then  the  Inn,  with  its  quaint 
china  and  great  open  fireplaces,  the  meas- 
ureless stretch  of  ocean  and  moor  —  the 
afterglow  —  all  palled. 

"  I  don't  think  I've  ever  been  part  of 
such  an  absolute  hen-party  before,"  said 
Mary,  as  she  glanced  along  the  piazza,  one 
day  after  tea. 

"  I  don't  mind  the  hen-party  so  much, 


194  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

if  only  I  could  get  a  little  golf,"  answered 
Frances,  hopelessly.  "Women  in  big 
doses  like  this  are  usually  harmless.  It 
is  only  when  you  get  the  leaven  of  a  few 
attractive  men  mixed  in,  that  the  dregs 
come  to  the  surface."  . 

"This  is  a  maddening  place,"  said 
Mary,  following  out  her  own  train  of 
thought.  "  Look  at  those  rocks  !  What 
opportunities !  Just  think  of  the  sailing 
and  the  moonlight  and  the  stars,  with  only 
one's  sister  to  whom  one  can  communi- 
cate the  'thrill  of  things,' — it's  cruel." 

Gradually  through  the  golden  haze  of 
Uncle  Nat's  earthly  paradise  there  crept 
the  dim  consciousness  that  some  one  was 
unhappy.  He  knew  it  was  not  himself, 
so  he  began  to  search  vaguely  for  the 
serpent  in  his  Eden. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  to-day, 
girls  ? "  he  asked  one  morning,  as  he 
stood,  sketch-block  in  hand,  ready  to  get 
the  benefit  of  a  perfect  gray  day. 

"  Oh,  ever  so  many  things,"  said  Mary, 
stifling  a  yawn.  "  Have  you  anything  you 
would  like  mended  ?  " 


THE  LADY  AND    THE   COW        195 

Uncle  Nat  looked  troubled. 

"  No,  my  dear,  no,"  he  answered,  hastily  ; 
then  he  glanced  at  Frances,  who  was  sit- 
ting in  a  dejected  heap  on  the  piazza 
steps.  "  Don't  wait  dinner  for  me,"  he 
added,  as  he  moved  away.  "  I've  had  a 
little  something  put  up.  I'm  afraid  the 
girls  are  dull,  very  dull,"  he  thought,  ab- 
stractedly. Then  a  sky  effect  caught  his 
eye,  and,  jumping  on  his  wheel,  he  hurried 
down  the  road  to  his  "  subject." 

He  painted  steadily,  absorbed  and  for- 
getful, for  two  or  three  hours.  Things 
were  "  making  "  better  than  he  had  antici- 
pated, and  he  began  to  see  that  his  sketch 
would  be  a  little  gem.  Looking  up  from 
his  work  for  a  moment,  to  find  his  water- 
bottle,  he  saw  a  man  wheel  by  with  a  bag 
of  golf  clubs  on  his  back.  He  watched 
him  ride  out  of  sight  through  his  great 
round  glasses,  feeling  that  he  was  inti- 
mately connected  with  some  important 
subject,  but  unable  to  get  down  from  the 
clouds  all  in  a  moment.  Suddenly,  when 
it  was  too  late,  he  realised  that  he  should 
have  stopped  the  man  and  inquired  for 


196  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

the  golf  links.  Frances  would  be  so 
disappointed,  he  thought,  reproachfully ; 
then  glancing  up,  he  saw  just  the  light  he 
had  been  longing  for  on  the  middle  dis- 
tance, and  the  incident  passed  completely 
out  of  his  mind. 

One  afternoon  a  few  days  later,  as  he 
was  packing  up  his  traps  to  return  to  the 
Inn,  he  saw  the  same  man  go  by  with  his 
caddy-bag  over  his  shoulder.  He  hailed 
him  loudly,  then,  apologising  for  his  abrupt- 
ness, inquired  about  the  links. 

"  They're  some  little  distance  from 
here,"  said  the  wheelman,  doubtfully, 
looking  at  Uncle  Nat's  cheerful  rotundity. 
"  But,  do  you  play  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  have  a  niece  who  is  very  enthu- 
siastic. I'm  afraid  she  finds  Gloucester 
somewhat  dull." 

The  man  thought  for  a  moment.  "  If 
you  care  to  walk  up  the  road  with  me  a 
little  way,  I'll  introduce  you  to  Mr.  Morris, 
the  president,"  said  the  golfer.  "  My 
name  is  Wright,  and  I'm  staying  with 
him.  His  cottage  is  just  around  the 
corner." 


THE   LADY  AND    THE    COW        197 

An  hour  later  Uncle  Nat  appeared 
on  the  Inn  piazza,  and  put  a  little  slip 
of  paper  into  Frances's  hand.  It  was 
the  receipt  for  the  season's  dues  for  the 
Gloucester  Golf  Club.  He  related  the 
incident  to  the  girls,  to  a  running  accom- 
paniment of  delighted  exclamations  from 
Frances. 

"  Mr.  Wright  is  a  very  charming  man, 
my  dears,  a  very  charming  man,  and  so  is 
Mr.  Morris.  Mr.  Morris  is  an  artist  and 
plays  golf  for  relaxation.  He  has  over- 
worked himself,  it  appears.  He  is  with 
his  mother  and  —  " 

"Is  he  young?"  asked  Mary,  with  a 
dawning  interest. 

"  Quite  young." 

«  And  Mr.  Wright  ? " 

"  Mr.  Wright  is  also  young,  and  a  great 
golfer." 

"  Not  Lawrence  Wright,  the  Longmere 
champion  ? "  exclaimed  Frances,  excitedly. 

"  Well,  he  certainly  said  something 
about  Longmere." 

"  Oh,  joy,  now  we  shall  begin  to  live !  " 
she  cried,  enthusiastically. 


198  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

The  next  day,  with  Uncle  Nat  as 
chaperon,  Frances  and  Mary  started  out 
for  the  links.  They  were  walking,  as 
Mary  did  not  ride  a  bicycle,  did  not  do 
anything  in  fact  but  look  pretty  and  dance 
exquisitely  in  slippers  that  her  best  friends 
said  were  at  least  two  sizes  too  small  for 
her. 

"  You  won't  mind  just  for  one  after- 
noon, dear,"  said  Frances  to  Uncle  Nat ; 
"  it's  too  bright  to  paint  to-day,  —  you 
said  so  yourself  this  morning,  —  and  after 
this  we  won't  have  to  bother  you  ever 
again." 

Morris  and  Wright  overtook  them  about 
half-way  from  the  links.  Morris  had  the 
Vandyke  beard  that  Frances  considered 
necessary  to  an  artist,  but  she  had  no 
thought  for  any  one  but  the  Longmere 
champion.  Morris  was  evidently  quite 
struck  with  Mary's  appearance,  and  stood 
looking  at  her  with  half-closed  eyes,  as 
though  she  were  a  piece  of  marble. 
Frances  and  Mr.  Wright  walked  on  ahead, 
deep  in  the  discussion  of  the  art  of  long 
driving. 


THE  LADY  AND    THE    COW        199 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  Wright,  suddenly 
letting  down  two  bars  of  an  old  gate. 

"  Where  ? " 

"  Here !  "  he  replied,  his  eyes  dancing 
with  amusement. 

Frances  looked  around,  blankly.  To 
her  unaccustomed  gaze  there  seemed  at 
first  to  be  nothing  but  rocks  and  dense 
thickets  of  fragrant  bay.  Every  here  and 
there  a  great  boulder  rose  high  in  the  air, 
and  sheltered  at  its  base  grew  little  stunted 
pines. 

"  Do  you  mean  —  "  began  Frances,  and 
then  stopped  short. 

"This  is  the  Gloucester  Golf  Club," 
said  Wright,  with  a  profound  bow,  "and 
its  president  and  secretary  welcome  the 
new  member." 

Frances  drew  a  long  breath. 

"You'll  have  to  show  me  how  to  play 
here,"  she  said,  rather  hopelessly.  "  I 
have  never  been  on  any  course  quite  — 
like  it." 

"  The  way  to  do  on  such  rough  links  is 
to  confine  yourself  almost  entirely  to  your 
irons,"  said  Wright.  "  A  brassey  is  worse 


200  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

than  useless,  because  you  have  to  play  it 
in  such  a  peculiar  way  that  you  get  into 
bad  habits.  If  I  were  you,  I'd  take  my 
brassey  out  of  my  bag,  to  be  quite  free 
from  temptation,  and  use  my  cleek  for  all 
long  shots  through  the  green." 

"  I  never  could  play  an  iron,"  said 
Frances,  still  depressed. 

"  This  is  a  splendid  opportunity  to  learn ; 
a  girl  won't  work  at  her  irons  until  she 
must,  —  the  brassey  is  too  tempting.  If 
you  do  as  I  suggest,  and  really  conquer 
them  this  summer,  you  will  find  your 
game  wonderfully  strengthened." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  tee 
of  the  first  hole,  called  the  twins.  Two 
great  boulders  about  a  foot  apart  guarded 
the  green,  and  smaller  ones  were  dotted 
all  along  the  line  of  the  hole  in  generous 
profusion.  Morris  started  off  with  his 
friend  Burgeman,  who  had  been  patiently 
waiting  for  him. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Mary?" 
asked  Frances,  as  she  prepared  to  start 
off. 

"  I'm  going  to  sit  on  this  lovely  rock 


THE  LADY  AND    THE   COW       2OI 

with  Uncle  Nat  for  a  little  while,"  an- 
swered Mary,  arranging  herself  pictur- 
esquely as  she  spoke.  "  Don't  be  too  long 
with  your  tiresome  golf." 

Uncle  Nat  sat  down  beside  her,  and 
gazed  about  him,  drinking  in  the  air  and 
sunshine.  After  a  few  moments  he  thought 
he  saw  something  which  gave  promise  of 
a  pretty  "bit,"  and  sauntered  off  to  ex- 
plore. Mary  sat  quiet  and  somewhat  dis- 
consolate under  her  red  sunshade,  which 
made  the  atmosphere  about  her  a  veritable 
couleur  de  rose,  but  the  fresh,  crisp  breeze, 
the  pungent  odour  of  bay,  the  droning 
voices  of  a  thousand  insects,  all  com- 
bined to  make  her  lean  back  in  lazy, 
physical  contentment,  while  her  mind 
wandered  inconsequently  over  a  thousand 
trifles. 

Meanwhile  Frances  had  driven  and 
failed  to  clear  the  twins.  Her  ball,  going 
off  sharply  to  the  right,  found  a  fairly  good 
lie  on  the  mossy  ground. 

"  What  shall  I  do  now  ? "  she  asked, 
feeling  utterly  helpless  without  her  bras- 
sey. 


202  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"Take  your  cleek,  of  course,  since  you 
want  distance,"  said  Wright. 

"  But  I  always  miss  with  a  cleek." 

"  Oh,  come,  be  a  sport  and  try  it !  You 
miss  because  you  don't  take  your  stroke 
properly.  Put  your  left  foot  quite  a  little 
ahead  of  your  ball,  turn  the  blade  of  your 
club  a  trifle  over  toward  the  left,  then 
when  you  start  to  take  your  stroke,  fol- 
low back  along  the  ground  just  as  far  as 
you  can.  When  your  arms  can't  go  out 
any  further  go  on  up  to  the  top  of  your 
swing  and  come  down  hard.  You'll  be 
surprised  to  see  the  distance  you'll  gain." 

"  It  sounds  complicated,  but  I'll  try  it," 
said  Frances. 

She  followed  out  all  directions  perfectly, 
but  played  quite  over  the  ball. 

"That  is  what  I  always  do,"  she  said, 
disgustedly.  "  Oh,  how  I  do  hate  an 
iron !  " 

"It  was  my  fault,"  said  Wright,  "be- 
cause I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  you  must 
always  try  to  take  a  bit  of  the  ground  with 
you.  Not  so  much  with  a  cleek  as  with 
a  mashie,  but  still  it's  a  good  idea  to  keep 


THE  LADY  AND    THE    COW        203 

the  ground  in  mind.  Do  you  know,  I  ven- 
ture to  prophesy  that  you'll  be  desperately 
in  love  with  a  cleek  before  many  days  are 
over." 

They  played  on  for  a  number  of  holes, 
Frances  having  rather  poor  success  with 
her  irons.  She  felt  afraid  to  move,  as 
there  seemed  to  be  nothing  but  stones  and 
brambles  everywhere. 

"  I  wonder  what  makes  you  founder 
your  ball  so  badly  ? "  said  Wright,  with 
a  puzzled  frown.  "  Swing  again,  and  let 
me  try  to  see." 

He  studied  her  carefully  for  a  moment, 
then  his  brow  cleared. 

"You  don't  hold  firmly  enough  with 
your  left  hand,"  he  announced.  "Try 
a  tight  grip,  and  keep  your  left  arm  stiff. 
That's  the  way,"  as  a  ball  went  soaring 
off  toward  the  green. 

Meanwhile,  Uncle  Nat  had  completely 
disappeared,  and  Mary,  quite  alone,  was 
gazing  dreamily  into  space.  She  was  at 
last  aroused  by  the  persistent  rustling  in 
the  bushes  near  her  boulder.  Glancing 
carelessly  around,  she  saw  a  sight  which 


2O4  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

turned  her  blood  to  ice.  Very  near  her 
a  cow  and  a  young  calf  were  browsing 
placidly,  but  filing  slowly  through  a  break 
in  the  fence  directly  back  of  her  came  the 
rest  of  the  herd.  Mary  jumped  to  her  feet, 
and  looked  about  wildly. 

"  Give  me  mice,  snakes,  tree-toads,  or 
even  woozy  things,  but  never  cows,"  she 
had  often  been  heard  to  exclaim. 

The  herd,  catching  sight  of  her,  stood 
still  in  wonder,  and  gazed  solemnly  at  the 
tall  figure  on  top  of  the  rock. 

"  Oh,  why  don't  they  look  the  other 
way,"  she  cried,  wringing  her  hands. 

The  action  caused  the  red  sunshade  to 
wobble  menacingly.  Several  of  the  cows 
came  nearer  to  further  investigate.  Then 
a  young  steer  bellowed  a  low  warning  and 
switched  his  tail  slowly  to  and  fro.  Mary 
gave  a  piercing  shriek  and  waved  her 
sunshade  frantically  in  the  direction  of 
Frances,  whose  white  skirt  gleamed  like 
a  sail  on  the  water.  The  breeze,  coming 
from  the  ocean,  carried  the  sound  in  the 
opposite  direction,  and  Frances  played 
on  stonily.  Mary  continued  to  wave  and 


THE  LADY  AND    THE    COW 

shriek,  while  the  steer,  suddenly  enraged 
by  the  movement  and  sound,  bellowed 
loudly,  and  started  toward  the  boulder. 
With  one  last  frantic  wave,  Mary  literally 
threw  herself  down  the  side  of  the  sharp 
incline,  and,  throwing  the  sunshade  in  the 
steer's  face,  raced  madly  down  the  course. 
The  steer,  thoroughly  enraged,  put  its 
head  down  and  galloped  after. 

When  Mr.  Morris  and  his  friend  turned 
away  from  the  third  green  they  saw  a 
flying  figure  coming  toward  them,  with 
imploring  hands  outstretched.  Morris 
sprang  forward,  while  Mary,  utterly  ex- 
hausted, staggered  and  would  have  fallen 
at  his  feet  had  he  not  caught  her  just  in 
time.  He  drew  her  quickly  aside  while 
the  steer  charged  on  down  the  course. 
Mr.  Burgeman  started  on  a  dead  run  for 
Frances,  while  Morris,  left  alone  with  the 
unconscious  Mary,  began  fumbling  with 
trembling  hands  at  her  collar  button. 

"  Poor  little  thing ! "  he  murmured. 
"  Heavens  !  how  pretty  she  is !  "  Giving 
up  the  collar  button  in  despair,  he  began 
slapping  her  hands  violently,  swearing  in- 


2O6  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

wardly  at  Uncle  Nat  for  his  desertion. 
Then  Frances  hurried  up  and  in  a  few 
moments  brought  Mary  to  with  deft 
touches. 

"You  silly  little  goose,"  she  said,  with 
a  half  tender,  half  disdainful  air,  "you 
should  have  been  born  a  hundred  years 
ago." 

The  following  autumn,  when  Frances 
spoke  of  her  sister's  engagement,  she 
always  did  it  with  an  air  of  gentle  depre- 
cation. 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  was  Gloucester  —  and  a 
cow!"  she  would  say;  "but  then  neither 
he  nor  she  belongs  to  our  day  and  genera- 
tion. Mary  puts  up  preserves,  does  tapes- 
try work  and  faints  most  becomingly  at 
the  proper  moment,  while  Mr.  Morris  is  the 
kind  of  man  who  is  never  so  happy  as 
when  he  is  protecting  some  one,  so  per- 
haps, after  all,  they  will  do  the  least  harm 
to  a  progressive  world  by  marrying  each 
other.  So  far  as  I  am  personally  con- 
cerned," she  added,  "the  only  kind  of  a 
match  that  appeals  to  me  is  a  golf  match." 


THE 
CONVERSION  OF  ST.  OURS 


THE 
CONVERSION   OF  ST.  OURS 

ST.  OURS  was  excited.  It  is  one  of 
the  most  quiet,  most  temperate,  most 
well-conducted  of  villages,  but  it  was 
excited,  and  with  good  reason.  The  ap- 
proaching railroad  had  long  threatened  it, 
foot  by  foot,  mile  by  mile ;  now  a  stage 
ride  of  a  few  hours  was  all  that  separated 
it  from  the  wicked  world.  The  Herald 
of  the  morning  —  of  that  morning  —  had 
announced  the  approach  of  a  golf  club. 
It  stated  that  "  negotiations  for  some  time 
in  progress  had  at  length  been  concluded 
between  the  Cleek  Club  and  certain  par- 
ties of  St.  Ours,  for  the  site  of  a  house 
and  grounds  suitable  for  links."  No  com- 
ments accompanied  the  announcement, 
209 


2IO  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

although  every  one  turned  the  leaf  expect- 
ing to  read  a  scathing  editorial.  It  had 
long  been  rumoured  that  the  Cleek  Golf 
Club  had  designs  upon  St.  Ours,  but  it 
was  confidently  believed  that  the  patriot- 
ism of  the  villagers  would  resist  all  temp- 
tations and  virtuously  refuse  to  sell  their 
land  for  so  profane  a  purpose.  Think  of 
it,  golf  on  a  Sunday,  the  women  in  golf 
costumes,  St.  Ours  surrendered  to  clubs, 
cleeks,  mashies,  brasseys,  and  the  like, 
the  Sunday  school  children  impressed  as 
caddies  !  Impossible ! 

St.  Ours  has  no  small  vices.  The  tra- 
ditions of  English  reformers,  and  a  long 
line  of  Puritan  ancestry,  restrain  and  regu- 
late it.  It  permits  no  desecration  of  the 
Sabbath,  no  irreverence.  Its  selectmen, 
in  short,  all  its  seniors,  were  grave  and 
reverend  men. 

Mr.  Silverpen,  secretary  of  the  Golf 
Club,  did  not  have  an  easy  task  in  negoti- 
ating with  those  gentlemen  for  the  pur- 
chase of  the  St.  Ours  links.  It  was  Mr. 
Monies,  the  banker,  who  sold  the  land, 
but  all  the  selectmen  were  present  at  the 


THE   CONVERSION  OF  ST.    OURS    2 1  I 

preliminary  conferences.  It  was  not,  as 
some  might  ungenerously  suppose,  that 
they  were  afraid  the  banker  might  be 
tempted  to  make  some'  concessions  un- 
worthy of  the  village,  it  was  the  banker 
who  was  unwilling  even  to  discuss  the 
terms  of  such  a  sale  without  the  advice  of 
his  friends. 

"There  must  be  no  Sunday  playing, 
Mr.  Silverpen,  that  must  be  distinctly 
understood,"  said  Mr.  Monies. 

"  I  have  gone  over  that  matter  with  my 
friends.  I  will  not  conceal  from  you  that 
some  of  our  people  made  serious  objections 
to  that  clause.  You  see,  Mr.  Monies,  we 
are  city  men  who  work  at  high  pres- 
sure all  the  week.  Some  of  us  can  get 
away  on  Friday  afternoon,  perhaps,  others 
not  until  Saturday.  Of  course,  if  we  can- 
not play  on  Sunday  it  is  a  serious  depri- 
vation. But  I  have  placed  your  scruples 
before  them  plainly  and  forcibly.  They 
respect  them,  and  they  will  waive  that  point 
if  you  insist  upon  it.  We  think  St.  Ours 
a  model  village  in  every  respect,  gentle- 
men, and  we  are  willing  to  make  sacri- 


212  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

fices  for  the  purpose  of  being  identified 
with  it." 

"  You  are  willing  to  accept  that  condi- 
tion and  have  it  incorporated  in  the  deed  ?  " 
inquired  Mr.  Monies,  somewhat  taken 
aback. 

"  We  are." 

"  Then,  gentlemen,  I  believe  that  re- 
moves all  objections,"  said  Mr.  Monies, 
beaming  round  upon  his  friends. 

And  thus  the  momentous  deed  was 
signed. 

The  opening  of  the  Cleek  Golf  Club 
was  a  memorable  event  at  St.  Ours.  The 
members,  their  friends,  and  their  friends' 
friends  took  possession  of  the  village.  Mrs. 
Carhart,  wife  of  the  pharmacist,  rented 
every  room  in  her  house  for  a  month  on  her 
own  terms.  Mr.  Denim,  the  dry  goods  mer- 
chant, rented  his  cottage  for  the  summer, 
while  Mr.  Plane,  the  carpenter,  retired 
with  his  family  to  his  barn.  The  butcher, 
the  baker,  the  blacksmith,  and  all  the  rest 
followed  suit.  The  sound  of  hammer, 
plane,  and  saw  made  merry  music  all  day 
long. 


THE   CONVERSION  OF  ST.    OURS    21$ 

On  Saturday  morning,  Mr.  Monies  was 
busy  receiving  deposits,  and  opening  ac- 
counts with  his  visitors.  St.  Ours  had 
never  experienced  anything  to  compare 
with  it. 

On  Sunday  the  churches  were  all  filled 
to  overflowing.  When  the  deacons  passed 
the  plates  for  contributions,  St.  Ours  ex- 
perienced another  sensation.  The  bills 
dropped,  fluttering  into  them  like  falling 
leaves  in  autumn.  Among  the  villagers, 
ten  cents,  or  less,  was  considered  not  an 
unworthy  contribution,  twenty-five  cents 
was  generous,  and  fifty,  verging  upon  ex- 
travagance. 

Mr.  Silverpen,  the  secretary  of  the 
Cleeks,  was  a  very  clever,  tactful  man,  as 
may  be  gathered  from  his  success  with  the 
preceding  negotiations,  but  there  was  one 
man  in  the  village,  the  old  miller,  who  re- 
sisted alike  his  temptations,  his  logic,  and 
his  blandishments,  for  the  links  purchased 
of  the  village  banker  proved  to  be  utterly 
inadequate.  An  extension  was  required, 
and  the  miller  owned  all  the  land  adjoining. 
In  this  dilemma,  Mrs.  Remington  and  Miss 


214  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

Duval  were  appointed  as  a  committee  to 
see  him,  and  soften  his  hard  heart.  It 
was  no  slight  undertaking.  His  reputa- 
tion for  obstinacy  and  hard-headedness 
extended  to  regions  remote  from  St.  Ours. 
He  had  been  at  war  with  his  own  village 
as  long  as  the  oldest  inhabitant  could  re- 
member ;  at  war  on  any  and  every  subject, 
on  general  principles  ;  but  the  pet  subject 
of  dispute  was  his  mill.  The  village  ob- 
jected to  his  running  his  mill  for  gain  on 
Sunday.  He  was  willing  that  it  should 
respect  the  Sabbath  when  there  was  no 
wind,  "  but,  shut  down  my  mill  when  there 
is  a  fair  wind  ?  Never  !  "  There  had  been 
infinite  contention  on  this  subject,  but  the 
old  miller  held  the  mill,  and  the  sails  sailed 
with  every  fair  wind  on  saints'  days  or  sin- 
ners' days. 

Speaking  of  sinners,  there  is  a  village 
about  seven  miles  from  St.  Ours,  called  St. 
Sinners.  It  is  a  village  of  notorious  in- 
temperance, and  there  the  miller  made  his 
purchases  in  order  to  slight  the  restraints 
and  express  his  indifference  to  the  opinion 
of  St.  Ours.  It  was  a  bright,  progressive 


THE    CONVERSION  OF  ST.    OURS    2 1  5 

little  place,  but  its  manner  of  respecting 
Sunday  indicated  its  belief  that  the  Sab- 
bath was  indeed  made  for  man,  not  man  for 
the  Sabbath.  It  regarded  St.  Ours  with 
withering  contempt,  and  openly  rejoiced 
in  the  fact  that  it  was  not  obliged  to  live 
up  to  any  Puritan  ancestry.  It  looked 
upon  the  summer  people  who  chose  St. 
Ours  in  preference  to  itself  as  one  half 
mad,  and  the  other  half  imbecile.  Never- 
theless, it  desired,  above  all  things,  these 
same  people,  wishing  to  divert  the  stream 
of  gold  which  flowed  from  their  pockets 
into  its  own  empty  ones.  Its  selectmen 
openly  announced  that  if  the  Cleek  Club 
would  make  its  home  in  St.  Sinners,  in- 
stead of  St.  Ours,  they  could  have  Sunday 
privileges  to  their  hearts'  content,  and  St. 
Sinners  would  not  only  permit  them,  but 
would  rejoice  with  them. 

All  this  the  miller  knew,  having  travelled 
much  in  his  youth  and  being  given  to  visit- 
ing St.  Sinners  for  the  purpose  of  keeping 
well  in  touch  with  the  times. 

All  this  he  kept  carefully  to  himself, 
being  divided  between  his  love  for  his  vil- 


2l6  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

lage,  the  inanimate  part  of  it,  and  his  con- 
tempt for  the  narrowness  of  his  neighbours. 

When  Mrs.  Remington  and  Miss  Duval 
called  upon  this  intractable  citizen,  at  his 
cottage,  the  winds  were  adverse  and  the 
mill  was  idle.  It  was  Saturday  ;  the  miller 
was  sitting  under  the  shade  of  his  portico, 
surrounded  by  his  wife,  children,  and  grand- 
children, the  last  with  hair  as  white  as  his 
own,  and  cheeks  as  ruddy.  The  house  was 
old,  quaint,  and  moss-grown,  the  weather- 
boards bleached  to  a  warm  gray,  which 
lighted  up  delicately  in  the  sunlight,  and 
suggested  the  soft  tints  worn  by  its  Puri- 
tan owners  of  bygone  days.  Nasturtiums, 
sweet  peas,  and  other  old  country  flowers 
bloomed  everywhere,  while  climbing  roses 
peeped  into  the  opened  windows  of  many 
panes. 

As  the  two  women  opened  the  gate, 
they  realised  that  their  golf  costumes  were 
being  subjected  to  criticism,  but  as  they 
saw  the  village  maidens  spinning  by  on 
wheels,  their  skirts  only  slightly  less 
abbreviated  than  their  own,  they  took 
courage. 


THE   CONVERSION  OF  ST.    OURS    21 7 

"  Good  morning,"  they  both  said, 
sweetly ;  whereupon  the  miller  and  his 
flock  all  rose,  and  offered  them  seats. 
Mrs.  Remington  believed  in  first  impres- 
sions. She  studied  the  old  man's  face 
keenly,  while  she  spoke  to  one  or  two  of 
the  children.  She  saw,  at  a  glance,  that 
nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  procrastina- 
tion, so  she  stated  her  purpose  at  once, 
with  frank  simplicity. 

"You  "see,"  she  said,  as  they  walked 
along,  "  one  is  never  satisfied  with  what 
one  has  in  this  world.  One  always  wants 
more ;  and  as  your  village  is  so  charming, 
and  your  air  so  delicious,  we  realise  that 
our  little  nine-hole  course  will  soon  be 
overcrowded.  Of  course,"  with  a  side- 
glance,  "we  could  go  to  St.  Sinners,  and 
get  all  the  ground  we  want  —  but  —  " 

"  I'm  surprised  you  don't  go,"  he  an- 
swered. "You  would  be  better  appre- 
ciated. Your  presence  enables  us  to  en- 
joy the  first  comforts  we  have  ever  been 
able  to  afford,  but  we  do  not  thank  you 
—  we  are  too  much  your  debtors  for 
that" 


2l8  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  have  to  go  in  the 
end,"  she  agreed,  "unless  you  take  pity 
upon  us." 

"Why  should  I?"  he  asked,  stopping 
suddenly.  "  I  am  an  old  man,  and  I  have 
all  I  want,  —  more  than  I  want.  My  land 
is  dear  to  me.  It  was  owned  by  my  father 
and  by  my  father's  fathers.  Why  should  I 
give  it  into  the  hands  of  strangers  ?  Why 
should  I,  even  indirectly,  put  into  the 
pockets  of  my  enemies  more  money  than 
they  have  ever  had  in  their  lives  before,  — 
more  than  is  good  for  them,  that  I  know  ? 
Why  should  I  not  let  you  go  to  St.  Sin- 
ners, and  thus  repay  in  kind  the  slights 
and  abuses  heaped  upon  me  by  a  narrow, 
bigoted  community  ? " 

"  Because  you,  yourself,  are  not  as  they 
are,"  she  answered.  "  Because  if  you  were 
to  do  such  a  thing,  you  would  put  yourself 
upon  their  level ;  it  would  be  unworthy  of 
you." 

He  looked  across  his  broad,  undulating 
fields,  and  pondered. 

"  I  could  never  sell  it,"  he  said,  with  a 
deep  breath,  turning  away,  "  but  —  I'll  see 


THE   CONVERSION  OF  ST.    OURS    2 19 

what  else  I  can  do.     Not  for  these  people ; 
not  for  money  —  " 

"  No,  not  for  any  of  those  things,"  said 
Mrs.  Remington,  softly,  as  she  turned 
away. 


XI 

AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY 

NOBODY  knew  why  McGee  had  mar- 
ried Miss  Muriel  Sweetapple.  People 
wondered  and  spoke  of  this,  his  matri- 
monial plunge,  before  they  mentioned  his 
golf  or  his  good  looks. 

His  golf  was  so  much  better  than  his  mat- 
rimonial venture,  that  it  seemed  strange  his 
domestic  affairs  should  have  been  touched 
upon,  especially  as,  outside  of  sport  and 
his  handsome  face,  McGee  had  no  claims 
to  be  considered  at  all. 

He  had  little  money  ;  his  position  in  the 
bank  could  not  win  for  him  any  special 
deference ;  he  was  a  poor,  handsome 
Briton  with  obscure  prospects,  and  with 
only  a  dead  grind  before  him  in  a  work-a- 
day  world. 

But  all  the  English  set,  and  the  New 
223 


224  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

England  set,  and  the  Boston  set,  and  the 
Southern  set,  and  the  Home  set  of  the 
"  California  Sunnyside  Club "  gossiped 
about  handsome  John  McGee  and  his 
plain  English  wife,  who  had  rejoiced  be- 
fore her  marriage  in  the  fanciful  name  of 
Muriel  Sweetapple. 

When  a  match  was  on,  and  the  tall, 
athletic  Englishman,  with  his  clear-cut 
features  and  lithe  figure,  crossed  the 
green  clubs  in  hand  for  the  start,  there 
was  always  a  little  crowd  to  see  the  first 
drive,  and  to  follow  him  over  the  links. 

One  of  the  followers  was  usually  "The 
Cat,"  as  he  was  called,  a  short,  stocky 
man  with  a  heavy  face  and  a  jowl  which 
earned  him  his  sobriquet.  He  was  power- 
ful, ugly,  and  very  rich,  and  he  was  proud 
of  all  these  things. 

He  was  a  self-made  man,  and  he  was 
proudest  of  that. 

He  was  the  power  behind  the  throne 
and  on  the  throne  of  the  Sunnyside  Golf 
Club,  and  he  rejoiced  in  it. 

His  money,  not  his  golf,  had  earned  him 
his  throne,  and  he  held  it,  in  spite  of  his 


AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY         22$ 

handicap  in  not  being  able  to  play  a 
stroke. 

His  nearest  rival  for  official  honours  was 
McGee,  and  because  he  feared  him,  "  The 
Cat "  affected  to  despise  both  the  good 
looks  and  the  golf  of  the  Englishman. 

It  was  the  day  set  apart  for  a  match 
between  the  men  of  "  Mira  Flores "  and 
"Sunnyside,"  and  Woolsey  Wimbleton 
was  very  busy.  He  seemed  to  buzz  like 
the  bees  from  one  thing  to  another. 

"A  busy  drone,"  remarked  one  woman 
in  lilac,  who  disliked  him,  to  another,  as 
she  strolled  from  the  club-house  portico 
to  the  grounds. 

The  crowd  was  gathering  on  one  of  the 
piazzas  of  the  club-house  which  overlooked 
the  "putting-green  "  and  the  first  tee. 

The  match  was  to  decide  a  tie,  and  the 
Sunnyside  Club,  being  in  its  first  season, 
wanted  badly  to  win. 

The  pretty  women,  in  their  faultless 
summer  toilets,  sat  in  the  big  cane  rockers 
fanning  themselves  leisurely,  as  they 
watched  the  workmen  put  the  finishing 
touches  to  the  lawn. 


226  DRIVES   AXD   PUTS 

The  low  meadows  were  all  creamy  with 
meadow-foam,  and  farther  on  were  dense 
red  masses  of  the  common  sorrel.  The 
sky  was  the  cloudless  blue  of  the  Cali- 
fornia late  spring  or  early  summer.  Under 
a  group  of  eucalyptus-trees  sat  McGee, 
fanning  himself  with  his  straw  hat,  and 
calmly  surveying  the  preparations,  while 
here  and  there  and  everywhere  rushed 
Woolsey  Wimbleton,  a  small,  self-con- 
scious, assertive  man,  fully  confident  that 
Sunnyside  Club  could  not  possibly  get 
along  without  his  executive  ability. 

"  I  don't  see  how  Woolsey  always  gets 
himself  on  all  the  committees,"  exclaimed 
pretty  Blissa  Littlejohn,  with  a  pout,  as 
she  shook  out  the  draperies  of  her  pink 
dress  and  waved  her  white  parasol  to  "  The 
Cat,"  resplendent  in  his  scarlet  coat  and 
gold  buttons  —  "  he  works  some  wires  I 
don't  know  anything  about." 

"  Hush  !  "  answered  her  married  sister, 
Mrs.  Norrie  Calhoun,  "he  will  hear  you." 

"  I  don't  care  if  he  does,"  answered 
Blissa,  in  a  perfectly  audible  tone.  "  I 
would  like  him  to  hear  that,  and  a  great 


AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY        22/ 

deal  more  I  have  to  say.  Why,  in  the 
last  handicap,  he  showed  such  partiality 
to  Jennie  Hopkins  she  just  had  to  win. 
Even  her  husband  was  surprised." 

"Blissa,"  whispered  her  sister,  with  a 
smile,  "  why  don't  you  make  love  to  him  ? 
and  then  you  would  stand  a  show." 

"  I  couldn't  Woolsey  and  I  have  al- 
ways been  enemies,  ever  since  college  days. 
Now,  just  look  at  Jennie  Hopkins  put! 
It  is  useless  to  deny  her  drives  and  bras- 
seys  are  fine,  but  she  can't  approach  at 
all,  and  never  takes  fewer  than  three  on 
the  green.  She  won't  believe  what  any 
baby  knows,  that  a  put  is  a  follow  through 
just  like  every  other  stroke  in  golf." 

"What's  the  matter,  Miss  Littlejohn  ?  " 
inquired  a  tall,  attractive-looking  man, 
dragging  a  chair  to  a  shady  spot  on  the 
piazza  beside  her.  "Are  you  at  war  with 
the  world  ?  See  what  I  picked  for  you  on 
the  way  over  from  the  village,"  and  he 
handed  her  some  daisies  which  the  Cali- 
fornians  call  "  sunshine." 

"How  glorious  they  are!"  she  said, 
shaking  out  their  golden  tips.  "  I  love  to 


228  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

walk  over  their  shining  carpet,  it  makes 
me  imagine  all  sorts  of  happy  things." 

"  You  know,"  said  the  doctor,  smiling, 
for  he  was  a  California!!  by  birth,  "  how, 
in  the  long  ago  of  Spanish  California, 
the  senoritas  used  to  tell  their  fortunes  by 
this  very  'sunshine,'  just  as  you  Eastern 
girls  tell  the  Marguerites,  — 

"  '  Si  me  quieres,  no  me  quieres, 
Love  me,  love  me  not.' 

"  Tell  my  fortune,"  and  he  slowly  com- 
menced to  strip  the  leaves  from  a  daisy. 

Blissa's  face  flushed.  "  It  is  not  for 
me  to  tell  it,"  she  replied,  gently,  "  I  hear 
that  you  are  going  away,  —  that  you  start 
for  the  East  next  week.  Is  it  true  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  the  doctor,  seeing  she  did 
not  wish  to  pursue  the  subject,  "  my  plans 
are  not  wholly  decided  as  yet." 

"  How  the  crowd  is  gathering ! "  ex- 
claimed Blissa.  "  There,  —  yes,  there  is 
Mrs.  McGee  and  her  two  elder  children. 
Poor  woman,  how  did  she  ever  have  the 
courage  to  come  ?  " 


AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY         22Q 

"  Why  poor  ?  "  queried  the  doctor. 

"  Is  it  possible  you  haven't  heard  the 
latest  about  her?"  interrupted  Mrs.  Van 
Pelt,  drawing  her  chair  up  to  join  them. 

Mrs.  Van  Pelt  was  a  young,  round-faced, 
smooth-skinned  woman  in  gray. 

"  It  is  a  good  story ;  the  McGees  put 
Woolsey  Wimbleton  up  last  night,  because 
the  club  was  full,  and  all  the  poor  fellow 
and  McGee  got  for  breakfast  this  morning 
was  an  orange  and  half  a  biscuit.  For 
some  obscure  reason  the  marketman  disap- 
pointed." 

Here  Madden  and  Jennie  Hopkins,  who 
had  come  up,  joined  in  the  loud  laughter. 

"  It  is  quite  true,"  continued  Mrs.  Van 
Pelt,  lazily,  her  eyes  gleaming  a  long  line 
of  blue  under  her  drooping  white  lids. 
"  Mrs.  McGee  sat  at  the  breakfast-table 
and  talked  '  Art,'  while  McGee  and  Wool- 
sey Wimbleton  starved." 

"  It  is  a  millstone  around  a  man's  neck 
to  have  a  wife  like  that,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Hopkins,  critically  examining  the  shaft 
of  her  cleek.  "McGee  used  to  be  well 
groomed  before  he  married,  just  as  neat 


230  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

and  faultless  in  his  appearance  as  could 
be.  Now,  even  his  business  confreres  poke 
fun  at  his  shabby  appearance.  It  is  only 
his  good  golf  which  gives  him  any  place 
at  all." 

At  this  juncture  two  ominous  lines 
appeared  between  Blissa  Littlejohn's 
brows,  and  the  doctor  looked  black. 

"The  other  morning,"  resumed  Mrs. 
Van  Pelt,  with  an  amiable  smile,  "  he 
was  so  late  at  the  office  that  the  fellows 
guyed  him  when  he  appeared.  His  apol- 
ogy was  that  the  baby  had  burned  her 
foot  at  the  breakfast  table  by  putting  it 
into  the  porridge-dish." 

A  prolonged  shout  of  laughter  greeted 
this  story. 

"The  very  latest,"  continued  Woolsey 
Wimbleton,  who  had  sauntered  up  to  join 
them,  "and  authenticated." 

"For  shame!"  ejaculated  Blissa,  "the 
poor  woman  is  maligned." 

"  This  isn't  golf,"  said  the  doctor,  rising 
with  a  sigh,  "  I  must  go  and  look  up  my 
clubs,"  and  somehow  Mrs.  Van  Pelt  felt 
at  that  moment  that  her  story  had  not 


AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY         23! 

had  the  unqualified  success  she  had  ex- 
pected for  it. 

The  match  got  well  under  way  and  all 
the  women  joined  the  gallery.  They  fol- 
lowed every  stroke  breathlessly,  especially 
Mrs.  Hopkins,  who  was  the  bright  par- 
ticular star  of  the  Sunnyside  feminine 
contingent. 

She  was  to  be  played  first  in  the  great 
match  against  the  women's  team  from 
"Mariposa,"  an  honour  for  which  she  had 
schemed  and  manoeuvred  for  many  weeks. 
None  of  the  steady  players  were  quite  so 
good  as  she,  and  there  were  even  one  or 
two  women  who  acknowledged  that  her 
golf  deserved  to  win,  but  what  small  pop- 
ularity she  might  have  possessed  she  lost 
by  her  conceit  and  her  bragging. 

"  One  can  tolerate  good  golf  in  another 
woman  sometimes,  but  never  postmortems,' 
said  Mrs.  Van  Pelt,  languidly. 

Woolsey  Wimbleton  nad  just  driven 
from  the  fifth  tee,  and  had  the  joy  of 
seeing  his  opponent  bunkered,  when  a 
footman  approached  Mrs.  Hopkins,  and 
asked  to  speak  to  her. 


232  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"  Impossible  !  "  she  said,  aloud,  after  he 
had  delivered  his  message.  "  It  can't  be 
so  serious  as  all  that." 

"  But  it  is,  madam,"  protested  the  man, 
looking  worn  and  anxious.  "  Miss  Ethel 
has  not  been  well  for  some  days."  He 
was  covered  from  head  to  foot  with  fine 
white  dust,  and  had  evidently  been  riding 
madly. 

Mrs.  Hopkins  stood  irresolute  for  a 
moment.  "  I  will  come,"  she  said,  at 
length.  "  Could  you  imagine  anything 
more  maddening  ? "  turning  to  Mrs.  Van 
Pelt.  "  Miss  Baldwin,  the  governess,  tells 
me  that  Ethel  is  seriously  ill,  and  begs  me 
to  return  immediately.  Isn't  she  inconsid- 
erate, when  she  knew  that  I  had  counted 
on  seeing  this  match.  Go  and  find 
Doctor  Rossiter,  James,  and  tell  him  I 
need  him  at  once.  He  is  ahead  of  the 
first  couple  somewhere  on  the  fifteenth 
tee." 

"  Scarlet  fever  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hop- 
kins, when  the  doctor  had  made  his  diag- 
nosis. "  It  is  impossible,  it  cannot  be ;  why, 
I  never  let  her  play  with  other  children, 


AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY         233 

and  the  governess  and  the  maids  never 
visit  in  poor  persons'  houses." 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Hopkins,"  said  the 
doctor,  gravely,  "scarlet  fever  is  no 
respecter  of  persons  ;  unfortunately,  I  am 
not  mistaken  in  my  diagnosis,  but  I  would 
be  most  happy  to  have  you  call  in  any  of 
my  confreres" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  to  offend,"  returned 
Mrs.  Hopkins,  hastily,  "but  I  can't  help 
feeling  how  unnecessary  it  all  is!  —  that 
horrid  placard  on  the  door ;  why,  I  shall 
be  shut  up  for  weeks  —  all  summer. 
They'll  treat  me  as  if  I  had  the  plague, 
and  that  match !  Is  it  too  late  for  me  to 
go  off  somewhere,  and  leave  the  child  with 
a  competent  nurse  ? " 

"  Impossible,"  replied  the  doctor,  shortly. 

"  Well,  then,  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to 
bear  it,"  and  she  threw  herself  angrily 
down  on  the  sofa.  "Your  room  is  all 
ready  for  you,  in  case  of  need,  and  Mr. 
Hopkins's  valet  will  get  whatever  you 
may  require."  Then  she  rose  and  walked 
deliberately  away. 

The  doctor  stood  still  a  few  moments, 


234  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

troubled  and  silent,  the  care  lines  deepen- 
ing on  his  face. 

"  There  is  only  one  woman  among  all  the 
women  I  know  who  is  a  known  quantity  — 
and  is  she  ?  "  he  added,  as  he  picked  up 
his  hat  and  walked  out  into  the  sunshine. 

There  was  little  hope  of  the  Sunnyside 
Club  winning  the  team  match,  with  Mrs. 
Hopkins  counted  out.  Very  unwillingly 
they  had  come  to  this  conclusion,  but  there 
was  no  woman  who  was  really  strong 
enough  to  take  her  place.  Practise  as 
Blissa  Littlejohn  might,  she  knew  the 
chances  of  her  winning  were  very  faint. 
Her  game  was  pretty  to  look  at,  but  it 
lacked  distance,  and  distance  in  the  end 
does  count.  Then,  she  was  distraite, 
and  almost  unhappy,  and  decidedly  nerv- 
ous. 

"  You  will  have  to  give  up  tea,  Blissa," 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Norrie  Calhoun,  as  the 
tears  came  into  her  sister's  eyes. 

"  And  why  should  I  give  up  tea  ?  " 

"Well,  you  just  must;  any  girl  who  is 
always  having  tears  come  into  her  eyes  on 
every  occasion  and  any  occasion  is  in  a 


AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY         235 

wrought  up  condition,  and  must  give  up 
tea." 

"Well,  it  isn't  tea!" 

"  Then  it's  golf." 

"  No,  it  isn't  golf,  although  I  can't  play 
even  a  little  bit." 

"Then  it's  those  two  men,  Blissa." 

They  were  sitting  in  the  garden,  and  the 
table  had  been  placed  under  a  pear-tree. 
The  small  green  fruit  shone  glossy  under 
the  leaves,  and  some  of  the  branches  almost 
touched  the  ground ;  others  were  trained 
up  against  a  high  brown  fence,  forming  a 
screen  from  the  too  intrusive  wind.  It 
was  Blissa's  favourite  corner,  and  she  had 
chosen  it  the  first  day  they  had  taken 
Villa  Flora.  How  sweet  it  all  was !  The 
old-fashioned,  square  garden  beds,  laid  out 
after  the  stiff,  conventional  fashion  of  Ver- 
sailles, the  thick  violet  borders,  the  tall, 
flaunting  candytuft,  the  red  Burgundy 
rose,  crimsoning  the  ground  with  its  fallen 
petals,  and  strangely  murmuring  through 
the  tree-tops  the  sighing  wind,  as  though 
chanting  the  dirge  of  the  passing  day. 

"  I  am  the  only  discordant  note  in  this 


236  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

beautiful  scene,"  said  Blissa,  aloud.  "  I 
am  glad  there  are  no  '  X-Rays '  invented 
which  can  look  into  my  heart." 

"Blissa,"  said  her  sister,  meditatively, 
"why  don't  you  marry  the  doctor?" 

Blissa  was  silent. 

"  For  a  very  good  reason,"  she  said  at 
length  ;  "he  hasn't  asked  me." 

"Then  you  won't  let  him." 

"  Yes,  I  will ;  I  have  given  him  loads  of 
opportunities." 

"  Will  you  refuse  him  if  he  does  ask 
you?" 

"Perhaps." 

"  Blissa,  you  are  in  love  with  him." 

"  I  have  given  you  no  reason  to  believe 
so,"  exclaimed  the  girl,  tartly.  "  He  is 
only  one  among  many." 

"  The  one  of  many." 

Blissa  lifted  up  her  tea-cup  and  poured 
off  the  few  remaining  drops.  "  Shall  I  tell 
your  fortune  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  am  always 
telling  fortunes  in  California,  either  with 
daisies  or  tea-cups,  both  equally  foolish 
and  depressing." 

"  No,  let  me  tell  yours,"  replied  her  sis- 


AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY 

ter,  gathering  up  the  folds  of  her  white 
dress,  and  moving  nearer  the  table.  Then 
she  lifted  the  Dresden  tea-cup,  and  scanned 
the  moistened  tea-leaves  silently. 

"  Tears ! "  scoffed  Blissa,  "  I  could  tell 
that  myself ;  they  are  all  over  the  cup." 

"  They  are  tears  of  your  own  making." 

"Isn't  there  anything  else  besides 
tears?" 

"Yes;  money." 

"  That's  good ;  I  could  not  get  on  with- 
out money.  What  else  ?  " 

"A  big  house  —  " 

"On  a  hill,"  continued  the  girl.  "It 
must  be  on  a  hilL"  Then  she  burst  into 
tears.  "I  couldn't  bear  to  be  poor,"  she 
sobbed.  "I  couldn't." 

"You  wouldn't  be  so  very  poor,"  Mrs. 
Calhoun  suggested ;  "  he  has  a  good  prac- 
tice." 

"I  couldn't  have  any  more  French 
gowns,"  replied  the  girl,  "  and  I  do  so  love 
French  gowns." 

"But  some  husbands  love  their  wives 
best  in  simple  muslins,"  persisted  Mrs. 
Nome  Calhoun,  from  a  sense  of  duty. 


238  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

"  Yours  doesn't,"  retorted  Blissa,  drying 
her  eyes,  and  regarding  scornfully  her 
sister's  befrilled  and  beruffled  creation. 

"  His  French  education  !  "  sighed  Mrs. 
Calhoun,  but  it  was  not  an  unhappy  sigh. 

"  It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  argue  in 
this  way  for  love  in  a  cottage  and  all  that, 
when  you  have  money  to  burn,  but  to  live 
in  a  cottage,  and  make  one's  own  dresses ! 
To  cut  one's  own  golf  skirt !  To  know  that 
it  sagged  at  the  sides,  and  hooped  up  in 
the  middle  of  the  back  !  I  simply  couldn't 
bear  it." 

"  How  is  little  Ethel  Hopkins  I  won- 
der ? "  said  her  sister,  changing  the  theme. 
"  I'm  afraid  she  is  very  ill.  No  one  has 
had  more  than  a  glimpse  of  the  doctor  for 
days.  He  is  simply  wrapped  up  in  that 
child." 

"  I  hope  it  will  end  well,"  murmured 
Blissa,  thoughtfully. 

Meanwhile  Ethel's  fever  grew  apace, 
and  Mrs.  Hopkins  was  kept  a  close  pris- 
oner. She  sat  at  her  window,  and  through 
her  field-glasses  watched  the  golfers  drive 
by  in  their  scarlet  coats.  The  air  trem- 


AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY         239 

bled  with  the  heat  of  June,  the  little  brook 
which  wound  in  and  out  of  the  canon  was 
almost  dry.  The  wealth  of  wayside  flowers 
lay  choked  in  dust.  She  grew  hungry,  not 
for  food,  but  for  the  sight  of  a  congenial 
face.  She  used  to  sob  and  cry  for  hours 
over  what  she  called  the  "  desertion "  of 
her  friends.  "  They  might  have  come  to 
see  me,"  she  cried,  "/haven't  anything." 

One  day  a  figure  slowly  climbed  the 
dusty  road  to  the  house.  It  was  a  lady, 
proclaimed  by  a  certain  dignity  of  bearing 
in  spite  of  the  old-fashioned  clothes.  Mrs. 
Hopkins  steadied  her  field-glass. 

"Mrs.  McGee!"  she  exclaimed,  in  sur- 
prise, "  what  can  possibly  bring  her  here  ? 
Thomas,  tell  Mrs.  McGee  I  will  see  her  at 
once."  She  almost  ran  into  the  drawing- 
room. 

"This  is  very  kind  of  you,"  she  cried, 
"  very  kind.  But  aren't  you  afraid  ?  I 
haven't  been  near  Ethel,  but  still  —  " 

"No,  I'm  not  afraid,"  replied  Mrs. 
McGee.  "  I  nursed  my  three  children 
through  scarlet  fever,  and  — ' 

"  Not  yourself  7  You  mean  your  nurses  ? " 


240  DRIVES  AND   PUTS 

"  No  ;  I  did,"  returned  her  visitor,  quietly. 
"We  were  too  poor  to  have  nurses." 

Mrs.  Hopkins  looked  at  the  woman  be- 
fore her  in  a  new  light.  The  former  was 
a  time-server ;  ungenerous,  self-centred  ; 
but  under  the  thick  dross  of  worldliness 
was  the  spark  of  something  finer  which 
could  rise  to  admiration  of  true  nobility. 
"You  can't  help  me,"  she  said,  aloud,  as 
Mrs.  McGee  offered  her  assistance.  "It 
would  only  sacrifice  you  uselessly,  and  I 
have  plenty  of  people.  I  must  just  endure 
it  as  best  I  can.  If  it  were  not  for  that 
match  I  would  not  mind,  but  to  have 
worked  at  my  golf  so  long,  and  to  have  all 
my  plans  upset  in  this  wretched  way,  is 
really  too  provoking.  And  then,  the  repu- 
tation of  the  team,  —  who  is  there  to  take 
my  place  ? " 

Mrs.  McGee  hesitated.  A  delicate  colour 
rose  in  her  cheeks,  and  she  looked  down  at 
the  floor.  "  Let  me  take  your  place.  I 
play  golf  —  " 

"  You  !  you !  " 

Mrs .  Hopkins  stared  at  her  with  wide- 
open  eyes. 


AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY         24! 

"Yes,  I,"  with  the  shadow  of  a  smile. 

Then  Mrs.  Hopkins,  having  been  startled 
out  of  the  very  bones  of  civility,  apologised 
to  the  wife  of  the  man  who  was  the  crack 
of  the  Sunnyside  Golf  Club. 

"  I  used  to  play  quite  well,  when  I  was 
a  girl,"  ventured  the  little  woman,  and 
somehow  Mrs.  Hopkins  felt,  when  she 
looked  into  those  soft  gray  eyes,  that 
perhaps  Mrs.  McGee  had  not  always  had 
skirts  that  hung  badly  and  a  belt  that 
"  missed  connections  "  in  the  back.  She 
thought  of  the  many  little  fingers  tugging 
at  this  same  ill-hanging  skirt,  and  vaguely 
wondered  if  she  would  always  have  been 
well  groomed  if  fortune  had  reversed  their 
fates. 

"We  have  about  ten  days  before  the 
date  fixed  with  '  Mariposa,'  have  we  not  ? " 
inquired  Mrs.  McGee,  to  break  the  silence 
which  had  become  oppressive. 

"Yes,  just  ten." 

"  I  think  if  I  practise  every  day  I 
might  gather  myself  a  little  together.  I 
shall  not  be  steady,  of  course,"  she 
added,  regretfully,  "but  still,  there  seems 


242  DRIVES  AND  PUTS 

to  be  no  one  else  to  step  into  the 
breach." 

The  club  fairly  seethed  with  excitement 
when  it  became  known  that  Mrs.  McGee 
had  applied  for  the  vacant  place  on  the 
team.  Her  three  qualifying  scores  made 
the  golf  committee  open  their  eyes. 

"Ninety-eight,  ninety-nine,  and  ninety- 
seven,"  said  Woolsey  Wimbleton,  with  a 
low  whistle,  "and  duly  authenticated  by 
one  of  her  bitterest  enemies.  She  is  in  a 
class  by  herself,  —  there's  no  doubt  about 
that.  What  a  martyrdom  it  must  have 
been  all  these  years  to  sit  quietly  by  tend- 
ing one  baby  after  another,  when  she  knew 
she  could  play  like  this !  By  Jove,  I 
couldn't  have  done  it !  " 

"Why!  Woolsey  has  a  heart,"  said 
Blissa,  turning  to  Mrs.  Van  Pelt  with 
exaggerated  surprise. 

When  the  "Mariposas"  went  home 
with  a  score  of  twenty-two  to  ten  against 
them,  Sunnyside  was  satisfied.  Two  or 
three  of  the  men  stood  around  the  club- 
house waiting  for  their  traps. 

"I    tell   you,"    exclaimed    "The  Cat," 


AN  UNKNOWN  QUANTITY         243 

"  there  may  be  nothing  in  McGee  but 
golf,  but  when  it  comes  to  his  wife,  it  is 
different."  His  heavy  face  looked  heavier 
than  ever,  as  he  gazed  absently  down  at 
his  bristling  caddy-bag.  "  I  may  have  some 
sort  of  scheme  in  the  Fall  that  I  can  put 
that  handsome  dummy  on  to.  He  can't 
make  a  fizzle  of  it  with  me  to  back  him," 
and  then  he  purred  with  satisfied  pride. 

The  next  year  "The  Cat"  prospered 
even  more  than  of  old,  and  in  the  success 
of  "  the  scheme,"  he  found  that  he  reaped 
almost  as  much  satisfaction  from  having  put 
that  "  handsome  dummy  "  on  his  feet  as  he 
did  from  the  more  substantial  results,  but 
perhaps  his  greatest  satisfaction  lay  in  the 
changing  colours  of  the  ring  Blissa  wore, 
and  the  growth  of  "  the  house  on  the  hill." 

As  for  the  doctor,  he  lost  interest  in 
golf  after  little  Ethel  died,  and  strangers, 
catching  glimpses  of  his  deep-set  eyes  and 
silvered  hair,  asked  who  he  was,  and 
women  called  him  "interesting." 

THE   END. 


SELECTIONS  FROM 

C.    PAGE  AND   COMPANY'S 
'JST  OF  FICTION 


Selections  from 
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An  Enemy  to  the  King.     (Twentieth  Thousand.) 

From   the    Recently    Discovered    Memoirs   of   the 
Sieur  de  la  Tournoire.     By  ROBERT    NEILSON    STE- 
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The  Continental   Dragoon.     (Eighteenth 

A  Romance  of  Philipse  Manor  House,  in  1778. 
By  ROBERT  NEILSON  STEPHENS,  author  of  "An  En- 
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The     Road     tO     PariS.         (Sixteenth   Thousand.) 

By  ROBERT    NEILSON    STEPHENS,    author   of  "An 
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A  Gentleman   Player. 

His  Adventures  on  a  Secret  Mission  for  Queen 
Elizabeth.  By  ROBERT  NEILSON  STEPHENS,  author 
of  "An  Enemy  to  the  King,"  "The  Continental 
Dragoon,"  "The  Road  to  Paris.'  etc.  Illustrated  by 
Frank  T.  Merrill, 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth,  450  pages  $1.50 

"  A  Gentleman  Player "  is  a  romance  of  the  Elizabethan  period. 
It  relates  the  story  of  a  young  gentleman  who,  in  the  reign  of  Eliza- 
beth, falls  so  low  in  his  fortune  that  he  joins  Shakespeare's  company 
of  players,  and  becomes  a  friend  and  protege  of  the  great  poet. 
Throughout  the  course  of  his  adventures  the  hero  makes  use  of  his 
art  as  an  actor  and  his  skill  as  a  swordsman,  and  the  denouement  of 
the  plot  is  brought  about  by  means  of  a  performance  by  Shakespeare's 
company  of  a  play  in  an  inn  yard. 


Rose  a  Charlitte.     (Eighth 

An  Acadien  Romance.     By  MARSHALL  SAUNDERS, 
author  of  "Beautiful  Joe,"  etc.     Illustrated  by  H.  De 
M.  Young, 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth  $1.50 

"  A  very  fine  novel  we  unhesitatingly  pronounce  it  ...  one  of  the  books  that 
stamp  themselves  at  once  upon  the  imagination  and  remain  imbedded  in  the  memory 
long  after  the  covers  are  closed."  —  Literary  World,  Boston. 


Deficient  Saints. 

A  Tale  of  Maine.    By  MARSHALL  SAUNDERS,  author 
of  "Rose  a  Charlitte,"  "Beautiful  Joe,"  etc.     Illus- 
trated by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 
i   vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth,  400  pages  $1.50 

In  this  story  Marshall  Saunders  follows  closely  the  fortunes  of  a 
French  family  whose  history  is  bound  up  with  that  of  the  old  Pine- 
tree  State.  These  French  people  become  less  and  less  French  until, 
at  last,  they  are  Americans,  intensely  loyal  to  their  State  and  their 
country.  Although  "  Deficient  Saints "  is  by  no  means  a  historical 
novel,  frequent  references  are  made  to  the  early  romantic  history  of 
Maine. 


L.    C.    PAGE    AND    COMPANY  S 


Her  Sailor,      (in  Press.) 

A  Novel.  By  MARSHALL  SAUNDERS,  author  of 
"  Rose  a  Charlitte,"  "  Beautiful  Joe,"  etc.  Illustrated, 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth,  250  pages  $1.25 

A  story  of  modern  life  of  great  charm  and  pathos,  dealing  with 
the  love  affairs  of  a  Canadian  girl  and  a  naval  officer. 

Midst  the  Wild   Carpathians. 

By  MAURUS  JOKAI,  author  of  "  Black  Diamonds," 
"The  Lion  of  Janina,"  etc.     Authorized  translation 
by  R.  Nisbet  Bain.     Illustrated  by  J.  W.  Kennedy. 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth  $1.25 

"  The  story  is  absorbingly  interesting  and  displays  all  the  virility  of  Jokai's 
powers,  his  genius  of  description,  his  keenness  of  characterization,  his  subtlety  of 
humor  and  his  consummate  art  in  the  progression  of  the  novel  from  one  apparent 
climax  to  another."  —  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

Pretty  Michal. 

A  Romance  of  Hungary.  By  MAURUS  JOKAI,  author 
of  "Black  Diamonds,"  "The  Green  Book,"  "Midst 
the. Wild  Carpathians,"  etc.  Authorized  translation 
by  R.  Nisbet  Bain.  Illustrated  with  a  photogravure 
frontispiece  of  the  great  Magyar  writer, 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth  decorative,  325  pages  $1.50 

"  It  is  at  once  a  spirited  tale  of  '  border  chivalry,'  a  charming  love  story  full  of 
luine  poeuy,  and  a  graphic  picture  of  life  in  a  countr 
new  to  English  readers."  —  Literary  World,  London. 


In  Kings'  Houses. 

A   Romance  of  the    Reign  of   Queen  Anne.     By 
JULIA  C.   R.   DORR,  author  of  "  A  Cathedral  Pilgrim- 
age," etc.     Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth  ....         $1.50 

"  We  close  the  book  with  a  wish  that  the  author  may  write  more  romance  of  the 
history  of  England  which  she  knows  so  well."  —  Bookman,  New  York. 

"  A  fine  strong  story  which  is  a  relief  to  come  upon.     Related  with  charming 


LIST    OF    FICTION. 


Manders. 

A  Tale  of  Paris.  By  ELWYN  BARRON.  Illustrated. 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth,  350  pages  .  .  $1.50 

"  Bright  descriptions  of  student  life  in  Paris,  sympathetic  views  of  human  frailty, 
and  a  dash  of  dramatic  force,  combine  to  form  an  attractive  story.  The  book  contains 
some  very  strong  scenes,  plenty  of  life  and  color,  and  a  pleasant  tinge  of  humor. 
...  It  has  grip,  picturesqueness,  and  vivacity."  —  The  Speaker  (London). 

"  A  study  of  deep  human  interest,  in  which  pathos  and  humor  both  play  their  parts. 
The  descriptions  of  life  in  the  Quartier  Latin  are  distinguished  for  their  freshness  and 
liveliness."  —  St.Jamet  Gazette  (London). 

"A  romance  sweet  as  violets."  —  Town  Topics  (New  York). 


In  Old  New  York.  (/» 

A    Romance.  By  WILSON  BARRETT,  author  of  "  The 
Sign  of  the  Cross,"  etc.,  and  ELWYN  BARRON,  author 
of  "  Manders."     Illustrated. 
i  vol.,  lib.   I2mo,  cloth,  350  pages      .         .         $1.50 

A  historical  romance  of  great  vigor  and  interest.  The  collabora- 
tion of  Mr.  Barrett  with  Mr.  Barren,  the  successful  author  of  "  Man- 
ders," is  a  sufficient  guarantee  of  the  production  of  a  volume  of 
fiction  which  will  take  very  high  rank. 

Omar  the  Tentmaker. 

A  Romance  of  Old  Persia.     By  NATHAN  HASKELL 
DOLE.     Illustrated  by  F.  T.  Merrill. 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth          ....         $1.50 

"  The  story  itself  is  beautiful  and  it  is  beautifully  written.  It  possesses  the  true 
spirit  of  romance,  and  is  almost  poetical  in  form.  The  author  has  undoubtedly  been 
inspired  by  his  admiration  for  the  Rubaiyat  of  Omar  Khayyam  to  write  this  story  of 
which  Omar  is  the  hero."  —  Troy  Timet. 

"  Mr.  Dole  has  built  a  delightful  romance."  —  Chicago  Chronicle. 

"  It  is  a  strong  and  vividly  written  story,  full  of  the  life  and  spirit  of  romance."  — 
New  Orleans  Picayune. 

The  Golden  Dog. 

A  Romance  of  Quebec.    By  WILLIAM  KIRBY.   New 
authorized  edition.     Illustrated  by  J.  W.  Kennedy. 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth          .  •      ..        .         .         $1.25 

"  A  powerful  romance  of  love,  intrigue,  and  adventure  in  the  time  of  Louis  XV.  and 
Mme.  de  Pompadour,  when  the  French  colonies  were  making  their  great  struggle  to 
retain  for  an  ungrateful  court  the  fairest  jewels  in  the  colonial  diadem  of  France."  — 
tfew  York  Herald. 


L.    C.    PAGE    AND    COMPANY'S 


The  Making  of  a  Saint. 

By  W.   SOMERSET  MAUGHAM.      Illustrated  by  Gil 
bert  James, 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth          ....         $i,50 

"  An  exceedingly  strong  story  of  original  motive  and  design.  .  ,  .  The  scenes  are 
imbued  with  a  spirit  of  frankness  ...  and  in  addition  there  is  a  strong  dramatic 
flavor.  — Philadelphia  Press, 

"A  sprightly  tale  abounding  in  adventures,  and  redolent  of  the  spirit  of  mediaeval 
Italy." — Brooklyn  rimes. 

Friendship  and  Folly. 

A    novel.      By   MARIA    LOUISE    POOL,    author    of 
"  Dally,"  «  A  Redbridge  Neighborhood,"  "  In  a  Dike 
Shanty,"  etc.     Illustrated  by  J.  W.  Kennedy. 
I  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth         ....          $1.25 

"  The  author  handles  her  elements  with  skilful  fingers  —  fingers  that  feel  their  way 
most  truthfully  among  the  actual  emotions  and  occurrences  of  nineteenth  century 
romance.  Hers  is  a  frank,  sensitive  touch,  and  the  result  is  both  complete  and  full  of 
interest."  —  Boston  Ideas. 

"The  story  will  rank  with  the  best  previous  work  of  this  ai-thor."  —  Indianapolis 

The  Knight  of  King's  Guard. 

A  Romance  of  the  Days  of  the  Black  Prince.    By 
EWAN  MARTIN.     Illustrated  by  Gilbert  James, 
i  vol.,  lib.   I2mo,  cloth,  300  pages      .         .         $1.50 

An  exceedingly  well  written  romance,  dealing  with  the  romantic 
period  chronicled  so  admirably  by  Froissart.  The  scene  is  laid  at  a 
border  castle  between  England  and  Scotland,  the  city  of  London,  and 
on  the  French  battle-fields  of  Cressy  and  Poitiers.  Edward  the  Third, 
Queen  Philippa,  the  Black  Prince,  Bertrand  du  Guesclin,  are  all  his- 
torical characters,  accurate  reproductions  of  which  give  life  and  vitality 
to  the  romance.  The  character  of  the  hero  is  especially  well  drawn. 

The  Rejuvenation  of  fliss  Semaphore. 

A  farcical  novel.     By  HAL  GODFREY.     Illustrated 
by  Etheldred  B.  Barry. 
I  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth           ....         $1.25 

,  "A  fanciful,  laughable  tale  of  two  maiden  sisters  of  uncertain  age  who  are  induced, 
by  their  natural  longing  for  a  return  to  youth  and  its  blessings,  to  pay  a  large  sum  for 
a  mystical  water  which  possesses  the  value  of  setting  backwards  the  hands  of  time. 
JNo  more  delightfully  fresh  and  original  book  has  appeared  since  'Vice  Versa' 
cnarmed  an  amused  world.  It  is  well  written,  drawn  to  the  life,  and  full  of  the  mos> 
enjoyable  humor."  —  Boston  Beacon. 


LIST    OF    FICTION. 


Cross  Trails. 

By  VICTOR  WAITE.  Illustrated  by  J.  W.  Kennedy. 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth  .  .  .  .  $1.50 

"  A  Spanish-American  novel  of  unusual  interest,  a  brilliant,  dashing,  and  stirring 
story,  teeming  with  humanity  and  life.  Mr.  Waite  is  to  be  congratulated  upon  the 
strength  with  which  he  has  drawn  his  characters."  —  San  Francitco  Chronicle. 

"  Every  page  is  enthralling."  —  A  cadenty. 

"  Full  of  strength  and  reality."  —  A  thenteum. 

"  The  book  is  exceedingly  powerful."  —  Glasgow  Herald. 

The  Paths  of  the  Prudent. 

By  J.  S.  FLETCHER,  author  of  "When  Charles  I. 
was  King,"  "  Mistress  Spitfire,"  etc.     Illustrated  by 
J.  W.  Kennedy, 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth,  300  pages         .         .         $1.50 

"  The  story  has  a  curious  fascination  for  the  reader,  and  the  theme  and  characters 
are  handled  with  rare  ability."  —  Scotsman. 

"Dorinthia  is  charming.  The  story  is  told  with  great  humor."  —  Pall  Mall 
Gazette. 

"  An  excellently  well  told  story,  and  the  reader's  interest  is  perfectly  sustained  to 
the  very  end."  — Punch. 

Bijli  the  Dancer. 

By  JAMES  BLYTHE  PATTON.     Illustrated  by  Horace 
Van  Rinth. 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth          ....         $1.50 

"  A  novel  of  Modern  India.  .  .  .  The  fortunes  of  the  heroine,  an  Indian  Nautch 
girl,  are  told  with  a  vigor,  pathos,  and  a  wealth  of  poetic  sympathy  that  makes  the  book 
admirable  from  first  to  last."  —  Detroit  Free  Press. 

"  A  remarkable  book."  —  Bookman. 

"  Powerful  and  fascinating."  —  Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

"  A  vivid  picture  ot  Indian  life."  —  Academy  (.London). 

Drives  and  Puts. 

A  Book  of  Golf    Stories.     By  WALTER  CAMP  and 
LILLIAN  BROOKS.     Illustrated. 
I  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth  decorative          ."-      .         $1.50 

Considering  the  great  and  growing  interest  in  golf,  —  perhaps  the 
king  of  sports, —  this  volume,  written  by  Walter  Camp,  the  eminent 
authority  on  sports,  in  collaboration  with  Lillian  Brooks,  the  well' 
known  writer  of  short  stories,  is  sure  to  be  a  success. 


8  L.   C.    PAGE    AND    COMPANY'S 

"  To  Arms !  " 

Being  Some  Passages  from  the  Early  Life  of  Allan 
Oliphant,   Chirurgeon,  Written  by  Himself,  and  now 
Set  Forth  for  the  First  Time.  By  ANDREW  BALFOUR. 
Illustrated  by  F.  W.  Glover, 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth  ;         $1.50 

"  A  tale  of '  Bonnie  Tweedside,'  and  St.  Dynans  and  Auld  Reekie,  —  a  fair  picture 
of  the  country  under  misrule  and  usurpation  and  all  kinds  of  vicissitudes.  Allan  Oli- 
phant is  a  great  hero."  —  Chicago  Times-Herald. 

"  A  recital  of  thrilling  interest,  told  with  unflagging  vigor."  —  Globe. 

"  An  unusually  excellent  example  of  a  semi-historic  romance."  —  World. 


The  River  of  Pearls ;  OR,  THE  RED  SPIDER. 

(In   Press,}    A  Chinese   Romance.     By    RENE  DE 
PONT-JEST,  with  sixty  illustrations  from  original  draw- 
ings by  Felix  Regamey. 
i   vol.,  lib.    I2mo,  cloth,   300  pages    .         .         $1.50 

Close  acquaintance  with  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Chinese 
has  enabled  the  author  to  write  a  story  which  is  instructive  as  well  as 
interesting.  The  book,  as  a  whole,  shows  the  writer  to  be  possessed 
of  a  strong  descriptive  faculty,  as  well  as  keen  insight  into  the  charac- 
ters of  the  people  of  whom  he  is  writing.  The  plot  is  cleverly  con- 
ceived and  well  worked  out,  and  the  story  abounds  with  incidents  of 
the  most  exciting  and  sensational  character.  Enjoyment  of  its  perusal 
is  increased  by  the  powerful  illustrations  of  Felix  Regamey. 

The  book  may  be  read  with  profit  by  any  one  who  wishes  to  real- 
ize the  actual  condition  of  native  life  in  China. 


Frivolities. 

Especially  Addressed  to  Those  who  are  Tired  of 
being  Serious.     By  RICHARD  MARSH,  author  of  "Tom 
Ossington's  Ghost,"  etc. 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth,  340  pages         .         .         $1.50 

A  dozen  stories  in  an  entirely  new  vein  for  Mr.  Marsh.  The  humor 
is  irresistible,  and  carries  the  reader  on  breathlessly  from  one  laugh  to 
another.  The  style,  though  appealing  to  a  totally  different  side  of 
complex  human  nature,  is  as  strong  and  effective  as  the  author's 
intense  and  dramatic  work  in  "  Tom  Ossington's  Ghost." 


LIST    OF    FICTION. 


Via  Lucis. 

By  KASSANDRA   VIVARIA.     With   portrait    of    the 
author, 
i  vol.,  lib.  1 2 mo,  cloth          ....         $1.50 

"  '  Via  Lucis  'is  —  we  say  it  unhesitatingly  —  a  striking  and  interesting  production." 
—  London  A  thenteum. 

"  Without  doubt  the  most  notable  novel  of  the  summer  is  this  strong  story  of  Ital- 
ian life,  so  full  of  local  color  one  can  almost  see  the  cool,  shaded  patios  and  the  flame 
of  the  pomegranate  blossom,  and  smell  the  perfume  of  the  grapes  growing  on  the  hill- 
sides. It  is  a  story  of  deep  and  passionate  heart  interests,  of  fierce  loves  and  fiercer 
hates,  of  undisciplined  natures  that  work  out  their  own  bitter  destiny  of  woe.  There 
has  hardly  been  a  finer  piece  of  portraiture  than  that  of  the  child  Ard'uina,  —  the  child 
of  a  sickly  and  unloved  mother  and  a  cruel  and  vindictive  father,  —  a  morbid,  queer, 
lonely  little  creature,  who  is  left  to  grow  up  without  love  or  training  of  any  kind."  —  New 
Or  leant  Picayune. 


Lally  of  the  Brigade. 

A  Romance  of  the  Irish  Brigade  in  France  during 
the  Time  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth.    By  L.  MCMANUS, 
author  of  "The  Silk  of  the  Kine,"  "The  Red  Star," 
etc.     Illustrated. 
i  vol.,  lib.   I2mo,  cloth,  250  pages     .         .         $1.25 

The  scene  of  this  romance  is  partly  at  the  siege  of  Crimona  (held 
by  the  troops  of  Louis  XIV.)  by  the  Austrian  forces  under  Prince 
Eugene.  During  the  siege  the  famous  Irish  Brigade  renders  valiant 
service,  and  the  hero  —  a  dashing  young  Irishman  —  is  in  the  thick 
of  the  fighting.  He  is  also  able  to  give  efficient  service  in  unravelling 
a  political  intrigue,  in  which  the  love  affairs  of  the  hero  and  the 
heroine  are  interwoven. 


Sons  of  Adversity. 

A  Romance  of  Queen   Elizabeth's  Time.     By  L. 
COPE  CORNFORD,   author  of  "  Captain  Jacobus,"  etc. 
Illustrated  by  J.  W.  Kennedy. 
i  vol.,  lib.  I2mo,  cloth         .         .         .         .          $1.25 

"  A  tale  of  adventure  on  land  and  sea  at  the  time  when  Protestant  England  and 
Catholic  Spain  were  struggling  for  naval  supremacy.  Spanish  conspiracies  against 
the  peace  of  good  Queen  Bess,  a  vivid  description  of  the  raise  of  the  Spanish  siege  of 
Leyden  by  the  combined  Dutch  and  English  forces,  sea  fights,  the  recovery  of  stolen 
treasure,  are  all  skilfully  woven  elements  in  a  plot  of  unusual  strength."  —  Pittsbure 
Bulletin. 


12  L.    C.    PAGE    AND    COMPANY  S 

Mademoiselle  de  Berny. 

A  Story  of  Valley  Forge.  By  PAULINE  BRADFORD 
MACKIE.  With  five  full-page  photogravures  from 
drawings  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Printed    on    deckle-edged    paper,    with    gilt    top,   and 
bound  in  cloth.      272  pages  .          .         .          $1.50 

"  The  charm  of  '  Mademoiselle  de  Berny '  lies  in  its  singular  sweetness."  — 
Boston  Herald. 

"  One  of  the  very  few  choice  American  historical  stories." —  Boston  Transcript. 

"  Real  romance  .  .  .  admirably  written."  —  Washington  Post. 

"  A  stirring  romance,  full  of  life  and  action  from  start  to  finish."  —  Toledo  Daily 
Blade. 

"  Of  the  many  romances  in  which  Washington  is  made  to  figure,  this  is  one  of  the 
most  fascinating,  one  of  the  best."  —  Boston  Courier. 

Ye  Lyttle  Salem  Maide. 

A  Story  of  Witchcraft.  By  PAULINE  BRADFORD 
MACKIE,  with  four  full-page  photogravures  from  draw- 
ings by  E.  W.  D.  Hamilton. 

Printed    on    deckle-edged   paper,   with    gilt    top,    and 
bound  in  cloth.      321  pages  .          .          .          $1.50 

A  tale  of  the  days  of  the  reign  of  superstition  in  New  England, 
and  of  a  brave  "  lyttle  maide,"  of  Salem  Town,  whose  faith  and  hope 
and  unyielding  adherence  to  her  word  of  honor  form  the  basis  of  a 
most  attractive  story.  Several  historical  characters  are  introduced, 
including  the  Rev.  Cotton  Mather  and  Governor  and  Lady  Phipps, 
and  a  very  convincing  picture  is  drawn  of  Puritan  life  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  seventeenth  century.  An  especial  interest  is  added  to  the 
book  by  the  illustrations,  reproduced  by  the  photogravure  process 
from  originals  by  E.  W.  D.  Hamilton. 

In  Guiana  Wilds. 

A  Study  of  Two  Women.  By  JAMES  RODWAY, 
author  of  "  In  the  Guiana  Forest,"  etc.  Illustrated. 
i  vol.,  library  I2mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover,  250 
pages  ........  $1.25 

"  In  Guiana  Wilds  "  may  be  described  as  an  ethnological  romance. 
A  typical  young  Scotchman  becomes,  by  the  force  of  circumstances, 
decivilized,  and  mates  with  a  native  woman. 

It  is  a  psychological  study  of  great  power  and  ability. 


LIST    OF    FICTION.  13 


Vivian  of  Virginia. 

Being  the  Memoirs  of  Our  First  Rebellion,  by  John 
Vivian,  Esq.,  of  Middle  Plantation,  Virginia.  By  HUL- 
BERT  FULLER.  With  ten  full-page  illustrations  by 
Frank  T.  Merrill. 

i    vol.,    library     I2mo,    cloth,    gilt    top,    deckle-edge 
paper  .......         $1.50 

"  A  stirring  and  accurate  account  of  the  famous  Bacon  rebellion."  —  Los  A  ngeles 
Sunday  Times. 

"  We  shall  have  to  search  far  to  find  a  better  colonial  story  than  this."  —  Denver 
Republican. 

"  A  well-conceived,  well-plotted  romance,  full  of  life  and  adventure." — Chicago 
Inter-Ocean. 

"  A  story  abounding  in  exciting  incidents  and  well-told  conversations."  —  Boston 
Journal. 

"  Mr.  Fuller  will  find  a  large  circle  of  readers  for  his  romance  who  will  not  be  dis- 
appointed in  their  pleasant  expectations."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

"  Instead  of  using  history  as  a  background  for  the  exploits  of  the  hero,  the  author 
used  the  hero  to  bring  out  history  and  the  interesting  events  of  those  early  days  in 
Virginia.  The  author  has  preserved  the  language  and  customs  of  the  times  admir- 
ably." —  Philadelphia  Telegram. 


The  Gray  House  of  the  Quarries. 

By  MARY  HARRIOTT  NORRIS.     With  a  frontispiece 
etching  by  Edmund  H.   Garrett. 
i  vol.,  8vo,  cloth,  500  pages          .         .         .         $1.50 

"  The  peculiar  genre,  for  which,  in  a  literary  sense,  all  must  acknowledge  obliga- 
tion to  the  author  of  a  new  type,  is  the  Dutch  -  American  species.  The  church-goings, 
the  courtings,  the  pleasures  and  sorrows  of  a  primitive  people,  their  lives  and  deaths, 
weddings,  suicides,  births  and  burials,  are  Rembrandt  and  Rubens  pictures  on  a  fresh 
canvas."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

"  The  fine  ideal  of  womanhood  in  a  person  never  once  physically  described  will 
gratify  the  highest  tone  of  the  period,  and  is  an  ennobling  conception."  —  Time  and 
The  Hour,  Boston. 


A     000  051  496    8 


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OCT  162006 


